That came so unexpectedly Namjoo did not know what to say.

When living with Jineol she did not think of her driver romantically. She had loved Jineol until the final moment. Sehun was more of an all-rounder friend. Or had been might be the better choice of vocabulary. Thanks to him she saw herself in a greater light.

If not for him jerking sense into her that night, she would have killed herself.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoo apologized. “I know I made it hard for you countless times. I’m probably still not the easiest person to deal with. I always had a lot of things going on in my head, so I’m sorry for everything unfortunate I did that troubled you.” Namjoo smiled sincerely, “It’s good you don’t work for him anymore. You also deserve more than that. It looks like you’re pretty well off now and I really do hope everything goes well for you. It was great seeing you today. Have a goodnight.”

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

That night he showered for a long time. Just standing there under the showerhead. Warm water rushing over him.

Namjoo had closed the gate and took the stairs up to her rooftop place. She had peered down at him and waved.

In the end, that was all he got.

Sorry. Hope you’re well.

Whatever.

Like she never really cared at all.

Shutting the water off he dressed and headed down the hall. Turning the lights off he crept into bed. Tossed and e too many times. Surrendering, he buried his head under the pillows to clog his thoughts.

The next day he didn’t drive to work. Still his eyes wavered to the clock on the wall too many times during the day. Getting distracted instead of helping customers. At the end of his shift he dragged his feet down the block.

He didn’t know if it was appropriate for him to intentionally go to the bus stop. Maybe Namjoo didn’t like it. The same way she didn’t react when she saw him for the first time again. The way she didn’t gave him a proper farewell when she left Jineol’s house.

Maybe Namjoo never thought of him at all.

That night in the backhouse could be just a simple one-night stand. Besides so many consenting adults did it, why wouldn’t she? Namjoo was a divorced woman starting that day. She was free to do whatever she wanted.

Despite his clutter of thoughts, he kept mourning over it. He was always so worried about her. Namjoo had always been alone.

She was still by herself.

Slowly picking up pace, Sehun started at a light jog until he was running faster.

Namjoo had always needed him.

Regardless what had happened between them that night she had come to him. She had always come to him.

The flashback of carrying her to the backhouse to finish crying and where he’d listened to her cry too often, tending to her wounds after tackling Yena, sitting and watching a movie with her. They had eaten popcorn in the backhouse. She had lain with him on that awful bed.

A horn blasted at him when he crossed a red light. Sehun didn’t stop until he saw the bus stop across the street. Panting heavily his heart sunk.

He was late.

The bus was already crossing the green light two blocks down. The line forming earlier was now gone. The bench empty. No one was waiting for a bus anymore.

Tossing his head back he kicked at the cement. Damn him for deciding to act so late. Breathing harder he waved a taxi over. There was just only one hope left.

When he walked into the eatery he first looked around. The house was full with diners. Steam increased the heat in the building. Not even the fan hanging off the wall cooled the air. Taking a seat Sehun waited. Maybe Namjoo was late.

“Hello, young man!” the cook greeted him. “Alone today?”

“Uh…yea.”

“What can I get you?”

“I’ll just take the special soup.” Sehun said.

“Coming up!” she cheerily hummed while drifting away.

He really did eat alone. Namjoo didn’t show up at all. He wondered what she was up to. Perhaps she’d gone straight home? Outside, Sehun stared in the direction of the alleyway. A strange urge telling him to just go and check it out if she was in. Staying rational he took a cab home.

He needn’t be more of a bother than necessary. It was embarrassing to even think of more than the other party desired. Plus, it wasn’t like there was anything mutual between them.

What was wrong with him?

Retreating home Sehun sunk into bed feeling like a sore loser.

The next day he left work much faster. Sliding out of a conversation with a customer the second the next manager clocked in. The customer still hadn’t finished when Sehun rushed out of the store. A bad review wouldn’t cause a dent in his job. His job would still be here for him tomorrow, but he didn’t know if Namjoo would. He didn’t even know her schedule. What if they missed each other again?

Flying down the road he wasted no time stopping to catch his breath. Winding up speed afraid he wouldn’t make it for the bus. His legs felt like tightly wounded springs at every step. His muscles strained and contracted and he worried a cramp would delay him.

Today he couldn’t be delayed.

Approaching the familiar glassy bank, Sehun saw the line at the bus stop. Heavily breathing he waited for traffic to cease in order to cross the road. Impatience clambered through him when it didn’t slow. The moment the lights hit red, Sehun spritzed through the waiting cars like a maze and hopped onto the sidewalk.

This afternoon Namjoo was there and on her phone like usual. Blending among the others waiting to head home. Trying to quiet his breathing he slowly approached her. Too bad he still hadn’t caught his breath. Hearing him Namjoo glanced up at him.

Awkwardly smiling, he greeted, “Hey.”

She blinked, observing him. “Did you run?”

“Huh?” he was flabbergasted she noticed. He lied, “No.”

Her gaze narrowed but said nothing. They turned to watch the bus roll up. It was always so punctual he cursed. Quick to stay on her tail he followed her inside and sat with her. Feeling more refreshed when he sat down. His legs were jittery from the running it was impossible to wholly relax. He prayed Namjoo did not notice.

“I guess you had off yesterday,” Namjoo began. “I didn’t see you.”

“Oh…yea…” he quietly mumbled.

Actually, he had been thinking too much, but it wasn’t like he could say it without an explanation; telling her he felt it was unjust the things she’d said to him previously. Confess that he didn’t want to hear her telling him good luck with everything like that was all she ever thought about for him. As if it could end there with her well wishes.

You kissed me he wanted to remind her. It left a mark he couldn’t rub away.

“How lucky. I’m jealous.” Namjoo cheerily grinned.

“So, you’re heading home then?” Sehun questioned.

He watched her peer out the window. She wasn’t pretending like she hadn’t heard him, right? Did she think he was annoying?

“Do you want to come over?” Namjoo finally looked at him. “I’m broke from grocery shopping yesterday, so I’m not eating out for a while.”

For a second, he merely stared at her. Taken by more surprise than anticipated with her invitation.

“Really?” he asked stunned.

This time Namjoo blinked causing him to worry if he was being too much. She’d already dropped the question. He just needed to say yes or no. Not be stupid.

“Y…yes!” he cleared his throat realizing his voice was too excited. “Yes. Sure. I’d like that.”

Namjoo’s head cocked as if trying to figure him out. Luckily, she didn’t comment on his behavior.

His insides tingled when they reached her place. Anxiety made him want to jump from foot to foot as she unlocked the gate. Honestly, he never imagined this happening, but he was curious. Too much.

He really wanted to see what her house looked like. Would he be her first visitor? Sehun was definitely certain he was.

Concrete spread out at the top of the stairs. A laundry line connected to the nearest street pole and extended to an artificial metal rod on the opposite end. The outside was peculiarly empty except for a wooden lounge table. One could lay down and stare at the sky or picnic outside depending on how the owner used it. Sehun thought both ideas were attractive options.

Namjoo’s door was solid wood. The brass knob was peeling in color, but as long as the door held that was the least of anyone’s worries. Inserting a key Namjoo unlocked it.

“Come in.” she invited.

She left him to follow her inside. Not surprisingly her flat was really small. Perfect for an individual but not enough space for two. Standing several steps near the entrance Sehun looked around. Her television set was even worse than the one at the backhouse. There were no seating arrangements, but he spotted a tiny circular table upright against the wall.

Sehun caught the sight of her bedroom from an open doorway. Namjoo slept on a twin bed. A desk was pushed off to the side topped with various condiments. Her tiny closet was quarter the size of the walk-in she used to have. How did all her clothes fit in there?

“Do you want something to drink?” Namjoo asked going through her fridge. “I have soda and some water.”

“I can take water.” He walked further in feeling like a giant in a troll’s nest.

“There’s not much I can offer,” Namjoo apologized. “I can cook noodles though. Is that ok?”

“Yea, that’s perfectly fine.” Walking over to the table he asked, “Is this the table?”

Namjoo gave a quick peek over her shoulder. “Yea, that’s it. Sorry it’s not the best.”

“It’s fine. Whatever works, right?” Picking up the table he went back into the area in front of her bedroom. It took only two tiny strides for him.

Deciding it was the best area to eat he set it down in front of the television. He hovered around awkwardly then took a sidestep and slid the door to her bedroom close.

“Here.” She came over to set down his glass of water. “The noodles will be ready soon.”

“You need help with anything?”

“Just sit.”

He didn’t. He watched her go back into the kitchen to watch over the boiling water on the stove. He’d never seen her cook before. Did she know how to? Noodles are the easiest thing to prepare, but it could be challenging for a person who never cooked before.

Sehun was worried again. This time his instinct proved right. Namjoo yelped when she lifted the pot off the stove. Shaking her burned hands frantically. Three small strides and he pushed her aside scolding, “Be careful.”

Spotting some napkins nearby he covered the pot handles and carried it to the table. Blowing on her hands Namjoo followed him like a child.

“I guess I wasn’t thinking.” She excused.

“Are you sure it doesn’t always happen?” he doubted her honesty.

Namjoo scowled as he passed her to grab utensils for them. “I don’t have side dishes, so I hope noodles are enough for you.”

“How many packs did you put in?” Returning, Sehun sat and placed chopsticks on her side of the table.

“One.” She mumbled sitting.

He gave her a flattened look.

“Of course, I’m kidding!” Namjoo revealed. “I used two. One for you, one for me.”

She was already digging in. Bowing her head to slurp the noodles allowing a glance over her shoulders to her kitchen. A small area panned out to the side. The faded yellow wallpaper was peeling revealing an ugly distinctive blue coloration beneath. The wooden cupboards came off as dreary and kind of gross. Perhaps what made the apartment cheap and affordable.

“What?” Namjoo straightened and glanced behind her. Back to him, “Is something there?”

“Nothing.”

A clink came from her chopsticks hitting the pot, “Then what are you doing? It’s good. You’re not eating?”

“I am.” He slurped some noodles and chewed slowly. “How much do you pay for this place?”

“Two hundred fifty,” Namjoo responded wiping with the back of her hand.

“That’s…a bit much.” For a measly place that wasn’t even in tiptop shape.

“The landlady lowered the price for me.” Namjoo admitted. “Why?” Twisting she peered around. “It’s really not bad.” She grinned like he was being silly, “I know it’s very different from before, but I lived in a studio when I was uni. Considering everything, I don’t feel too bad here.”

“Have you talked to your parents?” He was curious why she hadn’t contacted them. Wasn’t she from a good backing?

Namjoo scoffed and stared into the pot as if trying to portion the remaining noodles. “My father is bankrupt. Mom’s business is going under. They’re just living artificially on credit cards and whatever money relatives give them out of pity.”

Without waiting for him she lifted the pot and drained some of the broth. She gasped putting the pot back down.

“Everyone will know now that I’m divorced. They wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” Namjoo wiped again with the back of her hand. Sitting back, she brightly said, “You weren’t eating, so I finished it.”

“I’m not that hungry anyway.” Sehun put down the utensils.

That night he couldn’t sleep. He lay thinking, wondering. How much money did Namjoo actually have? She’d been a mere housewife in Jineol’s house. Had he given her money at all?

If her father wasn’t doing so well, her parents must have bathed in the cash flow when she was married to wealthy Jineol. Now that she had left that arse, did they not want anything to do with her?

Her family left her, too?

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Tossing and turning restlessly, Namjoo flipped onto her opposite side and stared at the phone sitting at the edge of the bed. It wasn’t ringing. She hadn’t changed her number yet no one was calling.

There would be no one to call.

Breathing a sigh, she turned away from the sight of the machine and pulled the blanket over her head.

At work the following day Namjoo worked at the pace of a snail at her desk, dazing in and out of conversations at the meeting table in the early afternoon until she clocked out. There was a routine in life she had come to realize. Once grown up a person had to assimilate to the bearings of life. Work, nothing, work if one was unlucky.

Namjoo watched a couple pass her on the way to the bus stop. Cozily holding hands and sharing a conversation in low voices. Walking closely with each other. If lucky, that was what a person achieved in life. A meaning to keep going.

A memory of Jineol waiting for her outside of her lecture crept into mind. The man eagerly waving with a broad smile when he spotted her leaving the class. Once upon a time that had been her, too.

A fool.

Clutching her phone, she patiently waited for the bus to arrive. It was ok she thought. She would not be sad. If she worked hard, she could be happy. She could cope.

Suddenly she turned and glanced up at Sehun. Not really surprised to find him standing with her. She was seeing him quite often these days. Honestly, she really didn’t know what to think about it.

She had always taken this bus since a month and a half ago. Never once had she seen him take this bus before. Unless he quit during that time and found a job, but didn’t he tell her he’d left Jineol’s just several weeks after her?

The timeline was a little iffy.

Deeming it strange to bring it up Namjoo decided it best not to say anything. Sehun had been the last of her worries when she left Jineol. Always wanting to apologize to him. Guess doing it didn’t really matter.

Here he was anyway.

Namjoo glanced at him sitting next to her once they alighted the bus. “What?” he asked.

“I’m not going home today.” She nudged her chin toward the next approaching stop closest to her house.

“Then where are you going?”

Namjoo wondered if he was sincerely interested or if he felt an instinctive need to follow where she went like a chauffeur since he’d been her designated driver?

“My destination is forty-two minutes out,” Namjoo explained. “You?”

“Uh…well…” his eyes fluttered really fast.

“You said you take this bus from time to time,” Namjoo reminded. “You’ve been here every day since.”

“Like I said,” he hurriedly excused, “I don’t always drive.”

Cocking her head, she observed him intrigued. A slight turn of his head hid his face from her view. Namjoo breathed a laugh amused and leaned back into her seat.

He was odd, but whatever was going on with him she’d find out later.

“That’s my stop.” Namjoo made out the Catholic church in the distance, a long beige building wielding a giant white cross at its top arch. The blacktop parking lot was sparsely filled to capacity. Outside the glass doors a bunch of church women in flower patterned dresses were having a conversation.

“Church?” Sehun frowned.

Withholding information, Namjoo turned to him. “My meeting is done at six. Will you come pick me up?”

He blinked taken aback by her abruptness. Namjoo just smiled giving no explanation.

He would want to know she thought. He deserved to be informed, because it had taken a lot of courage for her to take this step. The raw ache still clawed at her belly at nights, but she always remembered the night when he hugged her in the kitchen; the pills at her feet.

“Ok.” He answered.

When the bus reached, she exited but didn’t enter the church. She waved at him when the bus finally drove off. Waiting for it to disappear in the distance. Pulling the door open she went inside.

Hours later when she stepped out the horizon was glazed in pink and hints of orange; the sun dancing just above rooftops. The parking lot was half empty. Someone gently touched her arm, the woman smiling a goodbye and left. Car engines roared to life and taillights spun off down the road. Among them she watched a door open and a long figure step out.

Smiling, Namjoo approached the car. Sehun was already holding the door open for her. “That’s going to be a bad habit.” she remarked sliding inside.

“I don’t mind.” She heard him say. The door shut and she watched him jog around the vehicle.

Once inside she questioned, “Don’t tell me you were outside waiting?”

“Nah, I just arrived.” But she didn’t believe him.

Punching the accelerator, he drove off. A way down the road she wondered, “You’re not going to ask what I was doing?”

“Weren’t you doing a church service?” he peered at her lost.

Namjoo breathed a faint laugh.

“What’s funny?” he probed.

“Want to go for a walk?”

“N…now?” His eyes widened. “But I’m driving.”

Namjoo laughed. “No. When we arrive.”

“Oh…” his voice dropped.

There was something funny about him she couldn’t figure out. Finally pulling up in front of her house, Sehun parked off to the side. Shadows hovered over the high walled street, but it was empty and quiet. Namjoo waited for him to reach her before starting down the block.

At this time families were starting to call it a night. Parents readying for bed, children doing homework or enjoying the last of the television, and then lights would go out. The sky was already dimming. The pink hue transitioning into a darker green-blue. The full-blown moon was already climbing higher.

“I didn’t go to church,” Namjoo admitted. “It’s an anonymous group for druggies and alcoholics.” She knew his eyes had gone wide again but she didn’t look to confirm. Just went on, “You have no idea how embarrassing it is to admit having a problem. You probably know no one knew. If Jineol found out he’d never look at me the same. I was scared and ashamed and I couldn’t stop myself. There were just so many low points in my life, it was tough. I hardly felt wanted or important. It was such a powerful feeling to forget the reality of a moment for a split second. The escape felt really good. That was all I lived for.”

Twining her hands, she looked at him then away. She was embarrassed still. “Sometimes, I miss it. That good feeling. Or when I see the alcohol in the stores, it tempts me.”

“You aren’t doing it again, are you?” his voice was wary thick.

“Of course not.” Namjoo flushed twining her hands. “I don’t have the money for it.”

“Since when did you start going?”

“A month now. It’s every Thursday.” Namjoo explained. Peeking up at him, she told, “I thought you’d like to know.”

“I’m glad.”

Averting her attention, Namjoo said, “It meant a lot. You being there for me. There were a lot of times I wasn’t thinking straight, but you were always helping me anyway. I’m very thankful.” She laughed, smiling harder because she was embarrassed and didn’t know what to do.

Squeezing her shoulders, she shyly looked at him again. Smiling, “Thanks, Sehun. For everything you did for me. I wanted to get better because of you.”

“Stop smiling.” He sounded so serious she immediately did.

“Huh?”

He turned away from her appearing confused and lost. His voice was so quiet she strained to hear. “Don’t smile so much.”

Namjoo was puzzled when he scurried away. Got into his car and just drove off without even a goodbye.

Stop smiling?

What did she do? Scratching her head baffled Namjoo stalked back home since he left. She just thought he deserved to know she was getting help. Wouldn’t he be happy about it?

Grabbing a fresh towel and her pajamas Namjoo headed into her bathroom. Pausing when she passed the mirror above her sink. Fully shifting to peer at herself she frowned. Forming a smile, she stared at herself. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Her smile wasn’t crooked…at least she didn’t think it was?

Flattening her lips, she smiled again. She looked about as normal as everyone else.

Stop smiling?

Namjoo scoffed.

⅏⅏⅏⅏⅏

Since when, he wondered, did he start feeling so much? The image of Namjoo smiling stuck like a fragment inside his memory. His heart fluttered every single time he thought of it.

He was going to go crazy.

Didn’t she know that the things she said was leading him on? Pick me up. Thanks to you. Because of you. It made him stupidly hopeful.

When? When? When?

Combing fingers through his hair he flipped onto his belly burying his face into the pillow. Even that didn’t suffocate his thoughts. Turning onto his back he stared up at the ceiling. Pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, he shut his eyes sighing.

Did she think he was weird? Had he sounded too mean?

Gosh, he was so stupid. Flopping onto his belly again he buried his head under the pillows.

Sehun slept in because he wasn’t scheduled the following day. He showered in the morning even though he did it more in the evening before bed. Combing his hair multiple times, he finally returned to the bedroom and pulled on his best clothes. Spritzing some cologne on he hurried out of his condo.

The library was packed when he climbed the granite steps. A cry of children burst through an open room. The majority of them littered across a colorful carpet. Books and crayons were sprawled all over the floor.

Sehun searched around from the first floor to the second where it was quieter. Adults and teenagers hogged the computers. The young’uns wearing earphones in order not to disrupt the concentration of their neighbor. At the golden tables giant textbooks lay open. Occupants were busy with research going his or her own way, returning to their table. On both ends of the second-floor six-foot-high shelves were stocked from brim to brim. Someone was moving around, pulling a trolley with returned books.

Dashing over to an empty table, Sehun slipped into a chair careful not to be seen. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if she caught him here for no reason? He pondered over an excuse as he watched Namjoo scan a barcode on the book and tucked it on the shelf.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted his scheme, “that’s my seat.”

Running his eyes over the table he finally spotted a backpack tucked into the next chair. Getting up he awkwardly smiled, offering an apology. When he glanced back in Namjoo’s direction she was staring at him. Sehun immediately flushed with heat.

Found out he supposed he couldn’t just pretend to coincidentally be here anymore. His throat tightened as he crossed the space to her, hoping he didn’t come off as tactless.

“Hey.” He greeted timidly stopping before her.

Clutching a book in her arm, she stared up at him. “Yea, hi.”

The harsh pounding of his heart just made it harder for him. Scratching his neck, he felt weak and like a loser under her stare even if she was smaller. Sehun weakly said, “I don’t work today, so I thought I’d look around the library.”

Namjoo first looked at him quizzically. She smiled bringing the heat to his cheeks. “Do you want to have lunch? It’s almost my break.”