The answer to the question hovered in the air ambiguously. Seeking something to say then not knowing what yet pressed to say something.

You shouldn’t have left like that.

You made the house so quiet.

At least you could’ve taken something with you. The phone. The laptop. The flowers.

He didn’t.

“Fun.” Namjoo remarked.

ꞜꞜꞜꞜꞜ

So the wedding was on. There was nothing Namjoo could say to dispute it now. Sehun already brought her too far to back away.

Like a filial daughter-in-law, Namjoo waited alongside Sehun at the bottom of the front stairs watching a sleek black car drive past the gates toward them. Father and mother coming home.

Masking her face with a grin Namjoo moved forward as Sehun’s father stepped out of the car. Taking his arm, she helped steady him on his feet while his wife came around the other side.

“Did we make you wait long?” Father asked. “The doctor I tell you, he was dragging this morning’s checkup on purpose.”

“Oh, never mind him. He was so impatient wanting to come home to see you. This old silly man.” Sehun’s mother approached cheerfully, pitch high and giddy. Broadly grinning she touched Namjoo’s free arm, “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good, mother.” Namjoo replied.

“Did you have breakfast yet?”

“We already ate.” Sehun answered as they climbed the stairs.

“But I’m starving.” His father complained.

“How do you expect her to wait?” His wife chastised. “She can’t starve the baby.”

Throwing his head back with laughter, he asked, “Yes, how is the baby doing?” Looking at his wife he remarked, “We should’ve stopped for oranges on the way.”

Awkwardly laughing, Namjoo had nothing to add on. The darn baby again.

“If there’s anything, of course our son will get it for her.” Sehun’s mother reminded, as if to pinpoint his existence.

“Yes. Don’t worry about it.”

“Will you sit with this old man while he eats?” Elder Oh’s attention firmly stayed on her.

“Sure, father.”

Namjoo walked with Sehun’s parents the entire way into the dining room. Compared to every meal today’s breakfast was bland. A mix of vegetable side dishes and porridge filled the center. Elder Oh’s expression strained pitifully Namjoo felt sorry for him.

“Less sodium is a better choice for your diet, father.” Namjoo explained dishing him a bowl of porridge. “When my mother’s blood pressure was too high, I made her eat plain rice porridge.”

“How is your mother?” Elder Oh wondered. “You haven’t talked about her. We should meet sometime before the wedding.”

Incapable of retaining herself, Namjoo nervously laughed a little too hard caught off guard by the subject of her mother. Neither she nor Sehun had thought about that perspective. Darn her big mouth.

“She’s very boring. There’s nothing much to say about her.” Namjoo quickly added praying to hop past the subject. In fact, some might say her mother was very flippant. For a club owner that had moved past the worst of life’s obstacles, she was constantly hyperactive now. Especially when it came down to dealing with customers.

“I’m sure your mother is a very intelligent woman,” Madam Oh said. “Sehun, you’ve met her parents before. How are they? We should pay our respects now that Namjoo will be joining our family.”

“Oh…” he breathed also caught off guard. “They’re…really busy people.”

“We should have a meeting and decide when the wedding should take place,” Sehun’s mother continued. “When is the most convenient time to call them?”

Smiling stiffly Namjoo nudged Sehun’s foot under the table. Since he’d started this mess, he should bandage it somehow.

“Let’s just go ahead with the wedding.” Sehun blurted. “Whenever is fine, mom.”

“Well…” she stressed, “I’m not quite sure that will be all right. Namjoo’s family should have a say.”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” Namjoo cut in. “Really, mother.”

“Then,” she decided, “I was thinking maybe the middle of next month.”

Namjoo almost spat out her saliva.

“It doesn’t need to be a big wedding, but we’d like to have you in the family as soon as possible.” Sehun’s father interjected. “Will that be all right?”

“Yes, dear,” Sehun’s mother leaned forward in her seat, “you don’t have to worry about anything. Just take care of yourself and be healthy.”

ꞜꞜꞜꞜꞜ

“Headache.” Namjoo complained the moment they returned home.

Sehun watched her plop down onto the couch and lay down. “You’re going to sleep?”

Angling an arm over her eye, Namjoo mumbled, “Go away. I’m tired.”

“Regarding the topic of your parents, I’ll figure something out.” Sehun assured, but Namjoo was already giving him the shut eye.

Leaving her alone he went upstairs. Heading first toward his closet to dig out a fleece blanket. Namjoo was already unmoving when he approached her. He recalled she usually slept daytime and worked nights. Her schedule must have been off since he went to find her last night.

Covering her with the blanket he went back upstairs and spent several hours picking up work from his computer. His phone started ringing nonstop. When he picked it up Jin’s name popped on the screen. Tossing the device away he continued to ignore it. The calls persisted until he powered his phone off.

By lunchtime Namjoo was already up and rummaging through the cabinets. On the other side the cook focused on her separate task never minding her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t you have any medicine around here?” she asked. “My head is pounding.”

Walking right over to the cabinet one shelf over, Sehun pulled out a bottle. “Just take one. It’ll make you drowsy.”

“This is all you have?” Namjoo asked appalled. “What if I get cramps during my…” freezing she glanced over at the head cook who hadn’t, to her luck, spared them a glance.

Clearing , she fixated, “I mean, another headache?”

“Then you’re on your own.” He brushed past.

Namjoo gasped, “You’re so mean.”

Pulling a chair out he sat down. Listening to Namjoo’s footsteps get louder the closer she came. She sat with a hmph! which wasn’t very surprising.

Sehun waited till the cook set the table for them and took her leave. “Do you want to invite your friend to the wedding?”

“What friend?” Namjoo asked hungrily filling her plate with large scoops. It was just like her as if to to fight her for his share. “Moonbi?”

“Sure.” Sehun nonchalantly replied.

“Why do you care?” The spoon clicked against her teeth as she ate a spoonful.

“I don’t know,” he sardonically shrugged, “maybe you’d want someone you know to be at the wedding for you.”

“Well, the wedding’s fake.” Namjoo claimed. She paused, hesitated, then asked uncertainly, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like we’ll be signing official court documents.” He clarified.

Namjoo breathed relieved. “Good. Then I don’t want her there. She’ll spread the news like rapid fire then both you and me will be dead.” She made sure to add a cut throat gesture.

“Still, we’ll need some of your friends there to be convincing.” Sehun said.

“I’ll tell your parents I’m a loner,” Namjoo slyly cocked a grin, “and that you like that type.”

His expression constricted distastefully.

“And that’s how you got me to sleep with you, because I had no friends to stop me from doing better.” Namjoo cackled.

“Seriously.” He muttered.

“By the way,” Namjoo averted the subject, “can’t you unlock the guest rooms? Sleeping on the couch is uncomfortable.”

“No.” Sehun made an extra show of stabbing the last piece of braised chicken, sticking it evilly into his mouth.

That evening Namjoo made it to bed before he stepped out of the shower again. Laying on her side with her back facing his part of the bed. So close to the edge of the bed as if she had to create a mountain gap between them in order to be comfortable.

It wasn’t as if he had chosen to do this impulsively with any bad intention. Obviously being married now they couldn’t have different rooms. His parents would have things to say. He most likely did not need a counseling lesson from them.

Yet to put it into a sentence that he’d thought about sharing his bed with her long and hard would only receive one word from her: ert. In the end, trying an explanation seemed almost baseless.

“You can at least make yourself comfortable,” Sehun said throwing his old clothes into the laundry basket.

“I’m comfortable.” Namjoo monotonously answered staring into space.

Sighing, he turned the lights off and crept into bed. Being considerate enough to stay on his side for her comfort. “Mom wants to visit the wedding shop again tomorrow. I’ll pick you up after work.”

“Great.” She mumbled. “I just want to get this over with.”

Didn’t he, too.

When he woke up the next morning Namjoo was still asleep. One leg was crookedly thrown onto his side of the bed. If she knew that trying to sleep by the edge wouldn’t prevent her from invading his space in the middle of the night she’d probably go berserk.

He’d let her have it. For now.

Stepping out of the walk-in closet in the day’s outfit, he swiped his keys off the dresser and left without breakfast. Today he was heading out early. In order to beat traffic and arrive on time to work, Sehun had planned everything accordingly.

The jewelry store was open for business. A customer was at one of the glass counters observing a pearl necklace. Noticing him immediately a store clerk in formal black attire greeted him. Choosing a wedding ring shouldn’t be too complicated. If Namjoo’s ring needed resizing they could come back to for that. For now, he’d first make his purchase.

Several hours in at work and Sehun spun around in his chair bored. As he whirled toward the desk, he caught sight of the velvety box sitting below the left corner of his computer. Honestly, he was a little intrigued. Anticipating, maybe. Or perhaps it was the reality he’d actually gone out of his way to complete a task required before the church bells.

Prying the box open he glanced at the set of matching gold rings. A 14k rose gold oval opal and swiss blue topaz halo ring for Namjoo. Clear glass gemstones framed the opal and cascaded down the band. A gold ring for him. He’d paid right out of his pocket for the radiant pieces.

Snapping the box close he replaced it on his desk and swiped his phone off the opposite side. Pressing the familiar number, he held the phone to his ear.

After a few rings the voice answered stoically, “What?”

“You remember we’re going shopping for a dress later?” Sehun asked.

“You don’t have to call about that,” Namjoo gruffly muttered.

“Mom is really looking forward to it,” he reminded. “Don’t forget to wear something nice.”

“You’ve already said something like that forty-five times in my entire life.” He could see her rolling her eyes. “Is that all? Bye.”

The phone clicked. Sehun scoffed and hung up, too.

Later in the afternoon when he came home Namjoo was surprisingly upstairs in the walk-in closet rummaging through her clothes. Being in his room of her own was very different for him. For some distinct reason, he felt it was like taboo for her entering his private space. Peeking inside he watched her attentively shove aside one outfit after another. Focused, uncaring about her surroundings.

“You’re taking a while,” he stepped into the clearing.

Spooked Namjoo jumped shouting. Mumbling a few incoherent curses before spitting like a fast fire machine, “What are you doing and where the hell did you come from?”

Sticking a hand in the pocket of his blazer he walked into the closet. Backing up alert Namjoo bumped into the hanging clothes causing the hangers to swing back and forth over the roof of her head.

Stretching an arm out she warned, “I swear, you better not be trying anything funny.”

Shrinking further back Namjoo battered at him repeatedly. Swiftly nabbing her wrist, he held her still just long enough to slip the ring over her finger. Blinking confused Namjoo straightened twisting and turning her hand.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“What you think it is.” He simply questioned.

“Wow!” widened and expression beamed exhilarated. Holding her hand up she reveled in the way the light played with the color of her ring.

“How is it?” He wondered curious about her opinion.

“Nice! It’s beautiful!” Her eyes sparkled prettily when she looked at him. Next came the most important question to her, “How much was it?”

“Some thousand.” Not the accurate price, but he wasn’t about to say either.

She let out a deep profound gasp. “I can probably sell this for double that price on the internet!”

Unknowingly to Namjoo, she’d just slain the spark he momentarily experienced from seeing her genuine happiness. Grabbing her hand, he said, “Who said you can sell it?”

“But it’s mine!” she cried out when he pried the ring off her finger.

“Get dressed. I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Tucking the ring into his pocket he exited the room huffing.

Stopping at the front door he pulled out the velvety box and the opal ring. Gently cradling it between his fingers, marveling in the beauty of the glistening gems beneath the sunlight coming from the foyer windows. The dainty piece deserved more than to be sold by the one-time owner.

More than a label or a number Sehun thought the wedding ring was a priceless object. Awed Namjoo would want to obtain it for herself, keep it someplace safe. Sehun had expected anything than the subject of selling it for twice the original cost.

But everything through Namjoo’s brown irises consisted of a price.

Replacing the jewel back into the box he slipped it into his pocket as Namjoo came down wearing an unhappy pout on her face. She gave him an eyeful with a long face before pulling the door open.

“Smile, will you?” he asked.

Sticking her tongue out at him Namjoo shuffled ahead impatiently.

He drove them to a wedding apparel store; some place his mother had found online. A store clerk toured them throughout the store, gathering information through questions about dresses preferred, price range, date of the wedding; all of which his mother meticulously answered in their stead.

While Namjoo was led away to try on a dress, Sehun paced the store. Ending up at a rack of magazines he randomly plucked one and flipped through the wedding dress booklet.

“Now that we’re here, we should also find something for you,” his mother crept up beside him. “Whatever the bride wears, the groom should match her.” Peering at the book, she complimented, “What a beautiful dress. You should choose something nice for your wedding pictorial.”

“We don’t have to make it complicated, mom.” Sehun shut the book.

“Why, what are you saying?” His mother seemed taken aback by his coolness. “This is your wedding.”

He opened his mouth to explain himself in order not to come off standoffish. “Of course, I just mean it’s ok to not be so detailed about everything. Don’t break your back preparing.”

“It’s my son’s marriage. I have to do everything possible to make it perfect,” his mother insisted. “You’ll hurt our daughter-in-law’s feelings if you’re so cold.”

“She’ll understand.” Sehun was 1000% confident Namjoo didn’t give a jovial damn.

“Men,” his mother clucked her tongue, “you just don’t understand a woman’s heart.”

Taking charge, she led him down to the men’s tux section. Freely browsing through the variety until the store clerk called for them that Namjoo was ready.

Excitedly smiling from ear to ear his mother pulled him down the hall. Namjoo had just come out of the fitting room with another employee guiding her in a long off-shoulder dress.

Under the halo lights the white of the dress shone spectacularly. Every personal detail painstakingly sewn by hand onto the wedding dress beautifully popped out. The floral patterns, the lace, the airy tulle skirt with a hidden slit.

His heart fluttered a bit. His breath caught in his throat.

And maybe he did want to complicate things.