A few minutes later, spitting laughter, Hwayi slapped the round table they’d grabbed on the restaurant patio. A dark blue umbrella shaded them from the early afternoon’s heat. Any passerby hearing him would interpret him as a cackling maniac.

Gripping the chicken wrap she’d only taken one bite of Namjoo eyed him appalled. Unsure what he found hilarious over her story about Jin’s visit.

Choking, Hwayi coughed. Covering his mouth, upper torso on the verge of snapping from the rest of his body, he hoarsely made low throaty dying sounds. Recovering he reached for his lemonade drinking it greedily. Gasping deeply, he sighed, wiped his dewy lips with a pure white sheet napkin, and settled back into his steel chair acting like it never happened.

Then on the other hand, Hwayi was a man of another world. Never perceived the seriousness of any situation. Always laughing, making light of a situation like life, insignificant or not, was some big joke. Namjoo could understand why some people stayed away from him.

He was annoying as heck. No matter his age Hwayi refused to grow up.

“Where were we?” he asked.

“Jin came over.” Namjoo flatly reminded.

“Ah…yes,” Hwayi nodded. Just as quick a sharp mousy smile climbed onto his face. He seemed overly humored for some reason. “That guy wasn’t too happy, huh?”

“How would you know that?” Namjoo questioned.

Hwayi didn’t ask. Instead, he went with, “Then how do you feel?”

“About what?”

“Jin and the father of your baby,” Hwayi clarified. Raising a brow, he cocked his head toward her, “You are pregnant, aren’t you?”

Namjoo hesitated before bursting with a laugh. “Isn’t that why I’m married?”

Hwayi gave her a blank eyeful that made her edgy. The thin of his lips curved toward his ears forming a full upside-down U.

“Why, I’d say you talk as if your baby’s daddy should reunite with his ex.”

Nervously blabbing another laugh, Namjoo stuttered, “Is…is that how I sound?”

His head moved in sync with the shrug of his shoulder. “If it were me, I’d be very uncomfortable letting my husband meet his ex-girlfriend.” He purposely added, hinting with a connotation he knew better, “But then, every woman is different.”

“Of course,” she uneasily agreed trying not to shift in her chair. Ending the abrupt conversation that had taken a strange turn, Namjoo took a huge bite of the chicken wrap.

Quickly devouring her meal Namjoo made an excuse of the urgency to return home. Snagging her bag, she exited the restaurant. Hwayi came with her. Sighing as he stretched at her side on the pavement. Anxiety fizzled through her like roaring waves, one after another, colliding and combusting.

Was he onto something? She hadn’t said something that gave her fake pregnancy or the marriage away?

Namjoo’s malfunctioning brain was unable to pedal back. She’d forgotten the entire conversation already. Just had a feeling she’d said something he might have read too much into.

Pointing down her right she excused, “I go this way.”

“Too bad,” Hwayi complained too lightheartedly. Flirting with a smirk, “Wish I could walk you back.”

“No need.” Namjoo brushed him off. “I’ll see you next time.”

“Wait, I forgot.” He stopped her when she began pivoting. “Our class is arranging a reunion. Why don’t you come?”

“Uh…well…”

“I’ll tell Sehun about it. Come with him and enjoy drinks and snacks.” Hwayi stole the chance to wave. Tucking hands into his pockets he walked away whistling.

Retrieving her car, she drove home bothered. Confusion flashed overhead like a lightbulb when she drove up to the manor spotting Sehun’s car ahead. What was he doing home so early?

Pulling up near the stairs Namjoo stared at his vehicle on her way wondering if he wasn’t feeling well and had come home to rest. Whatever. She’d find something else to do that didn’t involve being around him when she got in.

Except Sehun abruptly whipped around when she opened the door. So fast she swore she felt a cut in the air. Three urgent steps away from the kitchen entrance and Namjoo hesitated in the threshold. Back out? Coolly walk in? Something about his rim rod straight posture, the tension in his shoulders sent alarms ringing.

“Where’ve you been?” shot out of his mouth. He was demanding, not asking.

Namjoo blinked flustered. Sehun wasn’t supposed to be the one upset with her. He was supposed to be disappointed not vice versa.

“I was with Hwayi.” She answered. She kind of had an inkling that Sehun didn’t like his cousin.

Sehun’s expression twisted disapprovingly. Literally yelling at her, “You know better than to meet privately with him. I told you!”

“He’s your cousin.” She barely hissed aggravated at his reaction despite the fact she’d said it on purpose.

“And your client,” Sehun spat with venom. Spite rounded his eyes. “Did he pay you today?”

That was it! Namjoo felt her veins pop. in a hot breath, she said, “You know what, Sehun? You can go to hell.”

Swiveling around she marched toward the door. Card in her purse. Keys in her pocket. She could find a hotel to sleep in tonight. Several days maybe. She’d power the phone off and indulge in free luxury to her heart’s content!

Sehun’s footsteps scurried around her. He passed in a blur blocking her exit.

“I’m sorry.” He was quick to apologize. Remorse exasperatedly overwhelmed his expression. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Namjoo bit down on her teeth, tampering down her loosening rage. She was the . Intentionally egging him on. Doing everything possible to make him angrier and angrier, more and more disappointed in her.

“I’m just…” his eyes swept the floor flickering up to her, away, and then back. “I’m just jealous.”

No.

Don’t do this.

She should look away.

Interrupt him.

She didn’t.

The beating inside her chest intensified distinctly aware what was coming. It was every baggage she’d tried pushing over the edge of the cliff into the ravine. The good of him she shouldn’t accept.

Don’t be sincere.

Don’t be.

Don’t be.

But…Sehun looked similar to a vulnerable baby bird. Waiting, waiting, waiting alone. And a part of her was not strong enough to leave him by himself.

“I don’t like it when you’re with him or anyone that’s not me.”

Plug her ears.

Run away.

Turn a blind eye!

“I like you. I want to be with you.” He looked right at her.

Shaking her head, Namjoo warded him off, “That’s not true. You’re just confused.”

His mouth opened exasperated. His hand curled fitful. “I’m not! I’m not confused!”

“Sehun, you were by yourself two years. You’re lonely and then you were hurt, so you’re not thinking clearly. You’re just in a jumbled haze of uncertainties.” Namjoo reasoned digging for all the possible circumstances to convince him his head wasn’t right. “What you’re feeling is just an illusion. It’s like a mirror effect, because we’re pretending to be married, so you can’t differentiate between reality or fiction.”

“I said I’m not confused!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Namjoo gripped her hands nervous. Repeating less confidently, “It’s not real.”

His hard stare lingered. Saying nothing he whirled around opening the door. She listened to it shut and remained standing there sinking into some kind of strange emptiness. Not really sure how to perceive the outcome of the argument.

Sehun didn’t come back for dinner. Namjoo spent the hours mulling over whether she’d said the right things to him. Regardless, her intentions guilt spread through her. She was sorry for trying to hurt him. Again.

That his every good-hearted motive she deflected.

Curling up in bed with the lights on she waited. Was Sehun going to stay out all night again? Driving aimlessly around the streets? She would accept it if he came home at least and seethe at her.

Half rising, she peeked at the time. Almost midnight.

How long was Sehun going to stay outside blowing off steam? Had she hurt him more than she meant to?

Upon hearing footsteps Namjoo immediately dropped her head onto the pillow hurriedly closing her eyes. When nothing happened, she peered at the door. Sehun should have grabbed a change of clothes, gone into the bathroom. Instead, she found him standing at the foot of the bed.

Caught, Namjoo supposed she couldn’t pretend to be dead asleep. Pushing herself up she asked, “Why are you so late?”

“I was just thinking.” His voice was solemnly quiet. It riddled a part of her sadly.

“Well…” kind of awkward, Namjoo averted her eyes from his sorry state afraid she’d cave. “You should go shower.”

“Ok.”

She listened to his movements turning only when the bathroom door closed. Knocking a fist into the side of her head she scolded herself. She should have just slept. Why did she care?

Plopping back down she stared at the ceiling. No, wait. Tonight, she should not sleep in his bed. Sharing it meant she was all right with that level of relationship with him.

Getting up Namjoo grabbed a pillow throwing it onto the floor. This was fine too. She could deal with this. Laying down on her side Namjoo focused on the wall.

Sehun didn’t take very long cleaning up. The door clicked open a few minutes later. At first silence. Then, “Why are you down there.”

“I’m fine here.” Crossing her arms, she refused to look over her shoulder, see the expression on his face. Unhappiness she thought or perhaps frustration with her continuing attitude.

She received not one comment from him. Or the demand to get on the bed.

This time, not to upset him but being more honest, she suggested, “I think we should start setting some boundaries.”

Surprised, Namjoo rose a quarter way when something went poof! on the floor. A pillow had landed next to her. Next came the blanket. The sheet instantly weighed over her legs and covered a good portion of her. Namjoo gasped baffled, unable to register any sort of retort to her nitwit brain. Lights went out and Sehun climbed under the blanket next to her. Right on the floor.

Subconsciously dropping back down Namjoo shifted away flabbergasted. Where was she to run now? Back onto the bed? Shuffling away Namjoo drew her legs up. Immediately her shoulder ached from the hard floor. Her impulsiveness desperately needed some form of control now. Sleeping on the floor was definitely the worst idea of the year.

She was such a !

Tension drew her shoulders up when Sehun scooted over sliding an arm around her. Grasping his arm, she protested, “Sehun…” but the strength of his arm remained locked.

“I’m going to hold you,” he proclaimed.

“Seriously, let go.” Her breath caught when he further buried his face into her nape intimately. Namjoo dug her fingers into his wrist feeling her heart race against her will.

“If you sleep on the floor, I’ll follow you. If you want to go home, I can pack up and go with you. If you tire of being here just tell me and I will take you somewhere far. But don’t try to be without me. I like you. I want to love you.”

“Shut up.” She squeezed her eyes close.

“I’m not confused. I also don’t want to be lonely. Namjoo,” he breathed into her hair, “let’s stop pretending.”

She wasn’t going to listen anymore. She refused to. For a few hours she lay there absorbing the warmth from his body having no damn clue how to handle what had become of him. Or what might become of her.

ꞜꞜꞜꞜꞜ

Start a family. Raise a son or daughter. Handsome. Beautiful. A child born from mom and dad’s love. A child that carried on mom and dad’s worst and best traits. Spend the rest of his eternity fulfilling days going to sleep and waking up next to his favorite person. Living a life together.

Farfetched dreams.

Imageries chased themselves like a dog its tail inside his head as he drove around the city.

Namjoo.

Namjoo.

Namjoo.

Weird how the longer days he spent under one roof with her, the more he wanted to give her everything. It was extraordinarily overwhelming. These feelings more pent up by the day, pleading for release.

But Namjoo would not take his hand. No matter how much he wanted to adore and care for her.

She could not see it.

Could not see him.

“See, here’s your ex, Jin, come to our house.”

“Remember, you love her?”

“You don’t know what you’re actually feeling.”

“Can I go home now?”

Deeply saddened him. Yet he could not give up.

Did not want to.

Because…there was a percentage of hope that Namjoo could feel the same way. Sehun was going to be patient. He was going to keep waiting. Tie that string of hope into a knot around his hand and hang onto it tightly.

On the way home he’d come to this conclusion. What started as a paid act was going to become the rest of his life. He would have his happy home. Build a family. Spend the rest of his days living with his best person.

It was about time he earned this.

At the first of sunlight Sehun budged awake. It’d gotten a little too hot he was sweating. The tiniest movement and he heard the smacking of lips. Blinking his eyes open he recognized the familiar scent of Namjoo’s body.

His heart fluttered, beating wildly. Still in his arms. Namjoo hadn’t snuck off in the middle of the night when he knocked out. She was here sleeping soundly with him. Unbothered.

Suddenly the heat didn’t seem to matter anymore. Tightening his arm around her he snuggled into her back happily. Pecking the back of her shoulder he decided he’d wake a little late today. Smiling too widely he buried his face into her shirt feeling the thud of her heart.

Sehun did get up a little later than usual. Namjoo was still deep asleep. He made sure to adjust the blanket over her before leaving the room. Grabbing a cup of coffee, he settled down at the table. Pulling out his phone he went through popular dating spots. On the weekend he planned to take Namjoo out again.

In order to woo Namjoo he needed to be more proactive. Had to, somehow, stop her from hightailing it out of here. Prevent her from strategizing ways to continuously counter him.

Namjoo was massaging her sore shoulder when she came down. He asked worried, “Does it hurt a lot?”

“I’m fine.” She shrugged him off. Barely looking at him she sat down. Not concerned whether he was in pain, too.

“Will you be going out later?” he wondered.

No reply.

“I’m just curious,” he explained. “Will you promise to let me know who you’ll be seeing?”

No answer again.

Probably wary after all he’d done yesterday. Sehun would still keep trying. Comforting himself that perhaps she was conflicted about her emotions regarding him, this fake marriage. He'd give her space. Allow her time to breathe and collect her scattered thoughts.

Sehun owed her that much.

Eating a small portion of the food he let her have the rest. A step away from the breakfast table and he paused. Confidently striding toward her he leaned down to kiss her temple. Namjoo’s head bobbed just slightly. She neither moved nor made a remark. Just continued to sit there stiffly.

I love you he wanted to say. Instead, he went with, “I’ll see you later.”

Every part of his being pulsated excited as he left home. Imagine doing this every day and he could die a happy man.

At work he debated calling home, check up on Namjoo. Ask her what she was up to. If she was out or in. Maybe talk to a housekeeper. Sehun decided not to. Afterall, he’d promised to leave her be.

His heart struck when the phone rang. Expecting to see Wifey on the screen but it was Hwayi.

Jerk.

Sehun snarled into the phone, “I don’t want to talk, so keep it short.”

The cousin chuckled cheerily. “Did you get the news? We’re gathering after ten years.”

“I’ve already decided to cancel out.” Sehun bluntly said. “I’m hanging up.”

“Did my beautiful sister-in-law tell you we had lunch yesterday?” ! Sehun grinded his teeth. “I told her about it, so come by. F.Y.I., I have a date, so you don’t have to worry about me.” He teased with a cackle, “I know you think we have something going on…”

Punching the end call button Sehun threw the phone down.

Jealous! He was so jealous!

Running a hand up his face into his hair he in a breath for calm.