Returning to the recliner, Sehun sunk into the chair. Sinking low into it. Sighing the nth sigh of the day.

Closing his eyes he waited out the rest of the evening. His neck cramped not to mention the soreness of sleeping so uncomfortably with his head twisted to the side all night. Sehun waited out the first shot of pain before sitting up straight. Pressing a hand to his neck he groaned abruptly killing it when he recalled he wasn’t alone.

Leaning over the side of the recliner he peered at the bed. It was empty. The blanket he had folded over Namjoo was strewn messily. Sehun hadn’t heard her get up or leave through the door. What time had she gotten up?

It wasn’t his problem he reminded. None of the family’s issues had anything to do with him. The miserable woman could deal with her own problems. He was just here as the driver-slash-gardener. After all he got paid well, so there was nothing to complain about. That was if he kept his distance from them like Driver Lim advised, and Sehun was determined to keep it that way.

Pushing himself up he dug through the drawer for a new change of clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. He hadn’t yesterday because Namjoo had thwarted his schedule. Goddamn his good conscience. One of these days he would really have to not care about anyone but himself.

It should have always been that way after he came to the city.

Deciding not to ponder or think anymore, Sehun stripped out of his clothes and the shower. In a few he’d have to go have breakfast with the Suh family. If he was lucky, he’d be able to swallow his food.

Truly he wasn’t looking forward to it.

After pulling on a new shirt and jeans, Sehun headed toward the manor. He hoped this would go by fast; that Jineol would excuse himself early. To his surprise the seat on Jineol’s right was empty. Namjoo’s chair was unoccupied. Had she taken sick leave?

Jineol was already eating. His appetite completely fueled considering the rate he was eating.

“Good morning, sir,” Sehun politely greeted upon approaching.

“Oh, yes, you’re here?” Jineol glanced up. “Sit down. Sit down. Hurry and help yourself. I had the kitchen lady put out a plate for you.”

Pulling a chair out he sat. Eyed the plate across from him. Without saying anything he began helping himself. Once he had the first bite a blur passed at the corner of his eye. The chair across from him skidded across the hardwood floor and Namjoo made herself comfortable.

“You woke up strangely late,” Jineol commented. “Is it the migraines? You should see Dr. Lee if they’re getting worse.”

“I’m fine.” Namjoo icily waved him off. Without raising her head, she began filling up her plate.

“I’ll be home on time for dinner today,” Jineol told. “Let’s have a nice meal together, huh?”

“Funny,” Namjoo remarked, “I was about to say you should come home on time tonight.”

Jineol glanced at her. Sehun tried not to lift up his head. Catch that snarl on Namjoo’s face.

“I’ll be early. Promise.” Jineol said.

The tension never rose at the table, but the husband was first to leave. Sehun hurried to follow. Quickly stealing a glance at Namjoo who’s eyes never left the tabletop.

Once they were on the road, Jineol sighed from the backseat. ing the first button of his shirt as if that might relieve the pressure in his chest.

“Thanks for coming to breakfast,” Jineol said. “You’re really the perfect buffer. You know, it gets tiring dealing with the wife sometimes. Appreciate you coming, man.”

Sehun’s eyes cut to the rearview mirror. Jineol was sprawled across the backseat, his arms outstretched. The dominant man without consideration for anyone but himself. Sehun didn’t know it was possible to dislike someone you tied the knot with like this.

He waited the entire day in the lower cafeteria taking advantage of their free Wi-Fi. On days like this he loved being away from the manor. He could just do nothing. It was the only plus side of taking Jineol to work everything else fell under the rocks.

As husband had promised wife he returned home early. Sehun didn’t fish him off to a hotel for a rendezvous with his mistress. For some reason she was completely out of the picture today. Strange, but, of course, Sehun would say nothing.

He departed from Jineol when they arrived back home. Heading to the backhouse Sehun prepared a solo meal and ate in front of the television. He’d bought a portable table he could set in front of the recliner to comfortably enjoy his meals and entertain himself simultaneously. Sehun only owned a plate, a bowl, a spoon, and a fork. The simplest of necessities which didn’t require much time to wash.

It was hardly dark when he stepped back outside for a walk. His only job today was over. Nothing else was required of him, so what now? Laze in bed? Crossing the yard Sehun eyed the woods miles out. Thick, dark trees crowded together as far as he saw. Appearing haunting and yet mysterious. He hadn’t bothered to ask what was out there.

A way from the manor, Sehun peered up at the window where he’d seen Namjoo watching him the other day. It was closed tonight, but the light was on. A bright orb glowed on the other side of the curtains.

“What are you up to?” A voice surprised him. Abruptly turning, his eyes swept across the flower garden. Spotting, finally, a splotch of dark color at the bistro table.

Found out he decided since he’d come out anyway, whatever. Weaving through the stalks of flowers, Sehun approached the table Namjoo was sitting at. She was in the company of a bottle of liquor, half of it drained, and two tiny shot glasses. As if she had been expecting him.

Sliding into the remaining chair, Sehun sat.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” He said.

Namjoo flatly eyed him offering nothing.

“Should you be drinking?” Sehun asked.

“I can decide for myself.” Namjoo stated. “Would you like one?”

He eyed the liquor. Snatching the bottle, he poured himself a glass and tossed it back then filled it to the brim again. Until there was just barely any liquid left. His throat burned. His stomach flipped as the acid eroded his recent meal.

Namjoo scoffed.

“Where is your husband?” Sehun asked.

“Inside.” She said. “I left the table first. He’s probably talking to the .”

Sehun made double sure not budge. Give away his surprise or that he wasn’t surprised.

Leaning forward she picked up the bottle and turned it vertical to her glass. Shaking the bottle to pour out whatever left of the liquor there was.

Namjoo distinctly advised without looking at him for any hint of his knowledge, “You’d be wise to keep your mouth shut whatever goes on here.”

“I haven’t.”

“But maybe you will.” Namjoo coolly eyed him. Falling back into her chair she tipped the glass to her lips.

He had nothing to offer so he didn’t.

Setting the glass back down with a clink, she glanced at his arm. “What is that?”

Sehun glanced at the tattoo on his lower arm. “My girlfriend.”

“You don’t look like a man who’d carry a memoir of his girlfriend around.” Namjoo commented. “Peculiar.”

“We separated,” Sehun said, paused, then ended, “when I went to jail.”

The cool glaze in Namjoo’s eyes shifted. The tension in her brows eased with realization as she raised her head a little higher.

“We were ambushed on a date by two thieves. I was held down while the other one started hurting her.” Sehun stared out at the woods again. Total darkness peeped through gaps of the barks. “I killed them.”

“I’m sorry.” Namjoo sympathized.

“Yea, well, I still took their lives when I shouldn’t have.” Sehun said.

“So, what, it was too traumatic for her?” Namjoo asked belittling the action of his ex.

Sehun stretched out his fingers as he stared down at his hand. “Revenge is harder to process than you think. It feels wrong.”

Namjoo said nothing.

“Your husband doesn’t know,” Sehun admitted. “He thinks I’m from the job searching program that helps the low-income class with no diplomas find stability. Actually, I was just placed in the program after jail.”

Namjoo didn’t seem amused. He couldn’t read her expression.

“Are you lying?” she asked.

“Have you told your husband you spent the night at the backhouse?” Sehun challenged.

“Fine,” she spat.

Both of them continued to sit there. Sehun started contemplating if he should come up with an excuse to leave. The madam surely didn’t appear to be eager to make an exit. It would have been easier in that retrospect.

Sehun put his arms on the arms of the chair, prepared to push himself up to his feet when Namjoo asked sounding derogatory, “Is that really all the clothes you have?”

Sehun tilted his head and gave himself a onceover. Then to her, “Why?”

Her eyes pinched kind of with disgust. “As a member of the Suh household, how you dress reflects our well-being. You’re even worse than the kitchen helpers.”

Sehun blinked offended. “Excuse me?”

“Tomorrow, exchange duties with Driver Lim.” Namjoo ordered. “You’re going to be with me.”

He didn’t have the last say before Namjoo stood, grabbed the liquor bottle, the two glasses, and left him.

That night after turning the lights off Sehun lifted the blanket off his bed. Pausing first. He couldn’t wrap around his head what just happened earlier. That was the longest conversation he’d had with the madam. It was beyond weird. He couldn’t decide whether tomorrow would be a disaster for him.

Shaking it off he crept into bed. Pausing again when his knee touched the bed. It was this side Namjoo had slept on yesterday. Should it bother him? Whatever, he was tired. Never minding it he dropped onto the bed and let his head hit the pillow.

After having breakfast alone and changing, Sehun found Namjoo waiting by the car. Posed with arms crossed, a leather bag dangling off her arm. She had big round shades on hiding the expression in her eyes, so he couldn’t see if she was grouchy or not.

“Where to?” Sehun asked once he started the engine.

“Times Square Mall.” Namjoo stated.

Rich lady shopping. That made sense. Saying no more Sehun punched in the name into the GPS and reversed out of the garage. Crossing the highways, zipping past traffic, listening to the tires roar. The silence inside the car was stifling. Sehun mentally played music in his head until he drove into the parking lot and searched around for the closest spot to the entrance.

The place was packed when they arrived. He daren’t gaze in awe at the humongous city building housing over thousands of outlets, eateries, a grocery store, cafés, arcades, and a theater. Namjoo shuffled through the bustling crowd and as if aware how VIP she was the crowd parted like a river for her. No one person coming close to her private bubble.

Namjoo oozed a confidence that everyone around could hardly approach this rich woman visiting the mall. People curiously gazed at her. Perhaps comparing their ripped shorts and tees to her expensive gown, the high-end leather purse, platforms, and elegant shades she had not yet taken off.

Sehun couldn’t help but feel embarrassed like the outsiders looking in. Dressed in jeans and a weary gray shirt himself he was everyone else. He stayed on Namjoo’s tail, cautious not to stand at her side. Without paying attention to what outlet they entered. Namjoo finally removed her shades with graceful fingers and tucked them into her purse when a door greeter welcomed them.

Namjoo didn’t even bother to reply but zipped right into the store. In order not to get on her nerves, Sehun followed her right in. Careful to keep at least five steps behind her. Finally realizing when Namjoo started shuffling through a rack that they were in a men’s warehouse.

The store wasn’t too bright. Lights dimmed for a classy appeal. He smelled rich leather. Expensive cotton and polyester. The scent of new clothes wafted around him. Looking around he spotted white porcelain mannequins dressed up in fitted suits. Varying from pin stripes to suave navy and pure black.

Sehun looked down when something touched him.

“It’s too small,” Namjoo shook her head. The silver hanger clinked on the bar as she replaced the button-down. Shuffling through the non-obtrusive colored shirts she finally pulled out another one. Pressing it against him her brows dipped as her lips firmed.

Sehun felt heat climb down his neck. “What are you doing?”

Ignoring him, Namjoo turned and called out, “We’ll try this one on. And I want that in this size.” She pointed to a mannequin dressed in navy blue with a single ed one-buttoned jacket.

Hurrying to her assistance, an employee in matching skirt and jacket with hair pinned back rushed over.

Sehun’s eyes widened. Realization dawning on him like a wet bucket of soapy water. Panicked, he turned to Namjoo, whispering in a low voice to hide his shame, “Stop this. I don’t have money.”

Cocking her head up with a steely gaze, she said voice matching his level, “You have nothing to worry about.”

Shoes clacked against the wooden floors as the employee neared. Politely extending an arm, she said, “This way, please.”

The corner of Namjoo’s lips curved up. Ignoring his concern, she asked, “What’s your shoe size?”

Sehun lightly bit down on his teeth. Aware of the waiting employee he had no choice but to follow her to the dressing room where a full-length mirror on the door gave him a full view of himself. Six-year-old jeans and dull gray shirt. He looked like he’d just waltzed off the street. Obviously, he wasn’t very well off. Sehun knew he looked like a clown compared to the Suh people who had everything in their grasp.

A full suit identical to the mannequin’s hung off a hook in the dressing room. In front of it the shirt Namjoo had earlier pulled. Locked inside the only way was out of his clothes and into the suit.

Needless say he didn’t want to admit that the clothes felt about right. An observation of himself in the mirror and he never knew clothes could make a person…new. He felt different in a new light, if that made sense. In his whole life he’d never had the chance to wear something like this before. He’d just been a measly car mechanic. Working with grime, dirt, and oil. Going home after a long day streaked in grease and aggressive black stains.

Sehun traced his fingers over the lapel of the shirt. Touching the collar of the button-up. Even sniffed the unique brand-new scent of the blazer. This was really a peculiar opportunity come to him.

A knock on the door interrupted his moment. Sehun made a face. He was embarrassed about this strange change. Was Namjoo having fun playing dress up with him because her husband was never available? Realizing it was too mean a thing Sehun didn’t ask as he opened the door and stepped out.

Namjoo immediately placed something she’d been holding onto the floor in front of him then straightened. A glance and he saw glossy black Oxfords.

“Seriously?” Sehun blurted.

Namjoo’s hard eyes offered him no escape. Sighing, he slipped out of his tennis shoes and into the Oxfords she had spent minutes looking at while he’d been changing.

“Satisfied?” he asked and hoped his face wasn’t raging pink because he was so embarrassed.

Stepping back with crossed arms Namjoo sized him up real quietly. Deep in thought because she said nothing. Sehun had forgotten how uncomfortable it was to be under an individual’s gaze like the first time he had been forced to strip at the prison and handed a jumpsuit.

He slightly tensed instinctively and tightened his throat when Namjoo dropped her arms. Invading his space as she stepped up to him and tugged at the width of his shoulder. Testing the blazer for sturdiness. Her fingers gently traced the lapel of the jacket. He could feel her fingers gliding down to his mid chest where they paused.

The distinct moment gave him the view of the top of her head. The closeness letting him smell a sweet scent coming from her. Perfume. It was nice.

Sehun hardly blinked when Namjoo slowly lifted her head. Namjoo’s big, round eyes were not of the stingy, judgmental madam he knew. The common innocence shone in her brown pupils. Wounds weighing the lower lids of her eyes.

Namjoo looked just like the girl next door who’d say hi everyday when she saw him.

As if noticing she’d given away a secret, Namjoo removed her hands and shifted away. Saying to the employee as she walked to the counter, “What do you have in stock? I’ll take ten of those in that size. Mix up the styles.”