“Yes, she does.”

Racing forward, Namjoo bumped into him. “No, I don’t.” Looking at the flowers, she asked, “Are those for me?”

“I saw them in the house, but I thought you’d like them.”

The freaking guy!

“Well, it’s the thought that counts.” Namjoo had the guts to say. Sehun glared at her.

“I know it’s late, but would you like to…”

“Bye,” Sehun slammed the door into his face and clicked the lock into place. Pivoting around, he plucked the flowers out of her hand and walked straight into the kitchen.

Namjoo was quick after him, “Hey! Those are my flowers.”

“Didn’t you hear him?” Sehun asked chucking them upside down into the trashcan. “He stole them from the house.”

“But they’re mine now.”

Reasoning with her was hopeless! He tossed the oranges onto the counter and warned, “Don’t you dare take them out of the garbage.”

Stomping past her he went upstairs. Slipping out of his blazer he threw it with vehemence onto the bed. Ongoing frustration was tying his nerves into knots. Nothing was going the way he wanted it to.

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Darn Sehun. Trying to control every corner of her life here. Being stuck here playing his charade wasn’t enough for him. Namjoo stuck her tongue at the door. This morning she didn’t want to see him at the breakfast table. She was going to wait until he left for work first before going downstairs.

Comfortably sinking into her pillow, she scrolled through her phone searching for something to watch. She may as well entertain herself in the meantime.

Barely three minutes into a sitcom and there was a knock on her door. She let the pause hang before the pounding became faster and more urgent. Sensing who was on the other side, Namjoo ignored it.

“Are you going to open the door?!” Sehun shouted from the other side.

Namjoo let him continue knocking until the noise became unnerving enough for her to toss the blanket over and stomp toward the door to do something about him.

Opening the door just a crack, she turned her head in order to keep him out of sight. “I don’t want to eat with you. Bye.”

She started swinging the door shut, but Sehun slammed his hand against it forcing her several steps back.

“Hey!” she shouted. “That’s not fair!”

“If I say so, you will do so.” He ordered.

Namjoo crossed her arms not having it with him. “I don’t want to.”

He a breath, appearing as if he might blow up in front of her. “If you don’t want Cleaner Jin gossiping to my parents you…” his eyes swayed over to the bedside table. Irritation suddenly glazed over his expression. “You!”

Namjoo peered at the flowers she’d taken out of the garbage after he left last night. Back to him, she impishly asked, “So?”

“I told you not to touch them.” He half-glared half-frowned.

“But they’re mine.” Namjoo argued.

Compressing his lips in subtle anger, Sehun stomped over to the table snatching the flowers. Passing her on fast feet he hurried down the stairs.

“Hey!” Namjoo screamed running after him. “I said they’re mine!”

Skidding to a halt in time she saw him pushing the cook away from her chopping board, gasping when he started chopping up the flowers like he was finely grounding meat. Pieces of petals flew all over the counter. With a final thwack! Sehun tossed down the knife and looked at her with laser beams in his eyes.

“You’re crazy!” she yelled.

Wiping his hands together to clear off residue, he roguishly said, “Now sit down.”

Stomping over Namjoo yanked out the chair and plopped down. Her glare fired rays at him the entire time. “For some flowers, you don’t need to act up.”

He scowled at her.

She continued out of spite, “Jealous over some house flowers or maybe you have some inferior complex with Hwayi.”

“Don’t you say his name.” Sehun bit down on his teeth.

“Oh?” Namjoo raised her brows. “Hwayi, Hwayi, Hwayi.”

“Stop it!” he yelled.

Snapping shut, Namjoo made a face at him.

“Don’t throw your tantrum with me,” he warned, “over some miniscule flowers he stole.”

“Over some miniscule flowers,” Namjoo mimicked him. She shot still upset over what he’d done yesterday and just now, “Your temper’s so short. I feel so sorry for your girlfriend.”

Stabbing several bites of the food into , Namjoo shoved the chair back and flew upstairs slamming the door shut.

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“Watch what you say!” Sehun shouted, but Namjoo was gone as fast as the wind. He groaned hearing the door upstairs. Remembering the cook in the room Sehun glanced at her. In case she had questions, he excused, “She’s just angry.”

On the way to work he sighed, aggravated over yesterday’s dinner and now the issue with Hwayi. The connection between him and Namjoo just added another complication onto the list.

Would the cousin have questions regarding him and Namjoo? In fact, he might even know Namjoo was faking pregnancy.

That would ruin his whole scheme. Thinking about Hyena gave him a big headache knowing what she was like. Drama Queen would want a wedding a.s.a.p. and make babies right away. At every whim Sehun would be controlled like a dog on a leash.

Shaking his head, he chucked the possibility out the window. Right now, he just had to keep Hwayi out of the picture.

Two months. That was all the time he needed to pull through.

Half the morning was spent glued at his desk dealing with paperwork and computer related duties. Taking a break, he glanced at the time. It was close to lunch. Grabbing his phone, he began dialing home. On second thought he wondered if he should make a direct call to Namjoo instead, find out what she was doing. His hand hovered over the home button as he debated.

In case she misbehaved or had left the house without his knowledge. He had to keep her in check. Sehun couldn’t help worrying about any trouble she might create that would implicate them. If his parents became wary about her fake pregnancy or their relationship at all he would be the most in trouble.

Hitting the back button, he pressed the unnamed number that belonged to the mobile Namjoo had begged for. It rang several times. He assumed she was outright ignoring him after their scuffle that morning. Over some stupid flowers Hwayi had stolen right from the manor.

How dumb was she to accept cheap flowers like that?

Sehun was ready to hang up when the phone went through.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

There was a slight pause. Then, “New phone, who this?”

Something in him ticked at her obvious ploy. He knew she damn well knew his voice. “Stop playing around.”

“Don’t call again. Bye.” The phone clicked just as fast and he was met with the dead dial tone.

Holding the phone away he sneered at it. Fine, he thought, be that way. He didn’t want to talk to her in the first place.

Sehun returned to work, but couldn’t focus. Easily aggravated by thoughts of Namjoo he left his desk and went in search of something to eat.

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“Jerk!” Namjoo threw the phone down.

She’d been sitting on the bed, enjoying a show when Sehun’s call interrupted. Now the video was gone and her mood had shifted. Curse him for ruining everything for her.

Bored, Namjoo flopped down onto her back. She was so bored here. Maybe she should really call a cab and head out for a few hours. She hated being stuck in this stucco house with nowhere to go except the manor.

Flipping over she buried her face into the blanket. Or she might just take a really long nap. Maybe she wanted a drink or two, too. Thinking about it, she hadn’t seen any liquor around the house.

A knock on the door made her get up.

“Mistress?”

Opening the door, she found the cleaner on the other side. “Yes?”

“Madam would like to see you.”

“Now?” Namjoo asked.

“Yes.”

What did Sehun’s mom want now? Leaving Sehun’s house she crossed the huge yard toward the manor without anyone to guide her. Lost inside the house, Namjoo wandered around poking her head into the various rooms until she found the elder woman in one of the sitting rooms with a humongous stone fireplace. The plush furniture of deep purple and red hues spread around made obvious whose room this belonged to. Beautiful double layer curtains were opened; each sheer white outer layer knotted on either side revealing an inner pink sheet.

“You’re here?” she called out smiling daintily. “Come sit.”

Clasping hands in front of her, Namjoo walked over and sat at the edge of the velvet sofa.

“Come closer.” Patting the seat next to her she waited.

“Yes…” Namjoo nervously smiled scooting nearer.

“I have something to show you.” Picking an item off the coffee table, she held it up exclaiming, “it’s not started yet, but I’m going to sew a blanket for the baby. Do you like it?”

It was a yard of cloth. Some blue material with yellow ducklings all over. Namjoo stared not knowing how to react. All she did was anxiously laugh.

“Uh…that’s sweet, mother.”

Beaming from ear to ear, she grinned, “I wasn’t sure if blue would be all right. What if it ends up being a granddaughter?”

“It’s just a baby. It won’t matter.” Namjoo dismissed.

“Oh no, but it should. You are the mother. This is important. If you don’t like it, I can do something else.”

“No, no, no, no,” Namjoo hurriedly shook her head. Forcing herself to sound excited she smiled wider, “I love it. Actually, I love it a lot.”

“You do?” Sehun’s mother asked swayed. “That’s great then. Oh right, I also picked up something for you.”

Reaching into the bag she pulled out a textbook thick book. It turned out to be a magazine with a woman modeling a wedding dress. Namjoo’s mouth nearly went dry.

“I thought about what your aunt said yesterday and she’s right.” Madam Oh said. “We should begin talking about a wedding. Making adjustments could be more difficult in later months when your belly begins growing. We should have the wedding before the baby arrives.”

Namjoo coughed.

“Are you feeling sick?” Sehun’s mother quickly patted her back.

“I’m perfectly fine.” Namjoo lied despite internally going berserk. How to tell the woman there would be no wedding or a baby coming? And where was Sehun to drag this out?

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Sehun passed two florist shops on the way home. Another one when he stopped for a red light. Like they were ominous signs his eyes swam over pedestrians crossing the street, moving left to the dozen window shops spread throughout the block. A chalkboard sign sat on the sidewalk advertising today’s sale. The shop owner had gone as far as to sketch roses at the bottom.

He thought about the flowers Namjoo had painstakingly thrown a fit about that morning, going as far as to connivingly steal them out of the trash last night. All that even knowing Hwayi had stolen them from his parents’ house.

Maybe he had gone a bit far chopping them up that morning.

When the light hit green, he impulsively made a turn rerouting to the florist shop. Quickly landing a parking spot at the curb, he walked into the store. The fragrance of fresh plants was alluring from every corner of the cool store. Colorful and live flowers displayed everywhere. Avoiding a mist of cold water Sehun made his pick, paid, and finally drove home.

Parking out front he left his car to the driver to pull into the garage and entered the manor. His mother caught him halfway down the corridor leading to the back door.

“You’re home? How was work?” she swiftly crossed through the kitchen to him.

“It was all right.”

Noticing the bouquet in his hand, she endearingly smiled. “You’re probably in a hurry home. I just wanted to show you something. I already showed Namjoo, but go on ahead. Your dad and I will see you both for dinner. Go on.”

“Uh…ok.” Confused about her excitement he continued wondering what that was about.

Arriving home, he went around the first floor searching for Namjoo. At first expecting to find her glued to the tv, but she was nowhere. Hearing that Namjoo was holed up in her room he went to find her.

Probably still upset with him from the way she had reacted to his phone call. Seriously, why did she have to be so difficult with him?

Stopping in front of her door he knocked and waited. Receiving no response, he opened the door and poked his head in. Namjoo was lying on her side with her back facing him. Hopefully she wasn’t napping, because he wasn’t keen on waking her and hearing her wrath of anger. But he heard voices and stepping closer saw that she was just watching something on her phone.

“Didn’t you hear me knock?” he asked.

“I did, but I’m ignoring you.” Namjoo mumbled.

He nudged her shoulder with the flowers. When she didn’t react, he did it again.  

“What do you –” she started shouting turning around becoming mute when her face hit the flowers. Surprised she backed up, dropped the phone still playing, and sat up. Blinking, she asked, “What’s that?”

Pretentiously observing the flowers, he looked at her, “Real flowers.” Showing off the plastic wrap that had been missing from the stolen house flowers, he swiveled the bouquet back and forth in front of her.

“From you?” Namjoo made a face bearing disgust.

“Do you want them?” he asked. “Yay? Nay?” Tilting them toward his chest he said, “Fine, I’ll replace the house flowers with these. Mom will be delighted.”

Leaning forward Namjoo snatched the flowers and clutched them close. “Clause number one about gift giving is you can’t take it back.”

He scoffed at her. Glancing to the side he spotted a wedding dress booklet.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Namjoo interrupted. “Even though I have hands and feet, I didn’t go out to get that.”

“I heard mom saw you.”

“Oh good,” Namjoo breathed relieved. “So, you already know?”

“Know what?” he frowned.

“They want to have talks about the wedding.” Namjoo told.

“So that’s why they want us to have dinner with them.”

“You knew?!” Namjoo blabbered. “Is that what these are for? Some kind of consolation gift?” she held the flowers up.

“No!” he refuted.

“I don’t want them then.” Namjoo hastily tossed them aside.

He gasped surprised. “Pick them back up!”

“I don’t want to.”

Inhaling Sehun clamped down his teeth in order not to go off on her. “Because I bought them for you.”

Completely blanking Namjoo stared at him like he was stupid. “Why?”