Yoona crawled further beneath the covers as her phone kept ringing. She’d already spoken to Yoonhee, her parents, and Sunny. There really wasn’t anyone else she wanted to talk to, so she’d been letting it ring all afternoon. And it hadn’t stopped ever since Yul had splashed their past all over the television. There were paparazzi and photographers camped outside the gates of her apartment complex. There was absolutely no way for her to get away from them. She sighed and rubbed her temples, then closed her eyes, willing this headache to leave her. But it didn’t. And she knew it wouldn’t anytime soon.

Frustrated, she threw the covers back and jumped out of bed. Flinging open her closet door, she grabbed her suitcase and put it on her bed, carefully choosing the items she was going to bring with her. She was scheduled to appear on the late show in a few days anyway, the night before her album was going to be released, so she decided that she was going to book a flight and head to New York now. The paparazzi could follow her as far as the building, but once she got to the penthouse in the city, security could deal with them. She didn’t have any here in Los Angeles. She’d been lax about finding a new place to live for the last few years, because she’d rarely been there anyway. She lived in a complex where there was no security, save for that flimsy wrought iron gate out front. That was coming back to bite her on the right now.

Yoona called the airport and booked a flight, and then did the only thing she could. She waited.

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“She hasn’t called, Jessie,” Yul said. Jessie was sitting calmly on the couch while he was pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table, the television on in the background.

Jessie sighed deeply. “I know,” he said feeling. He knew that his brother was worried about his wife, but he’d done what he had to do, and now the rest was up to Yoona. “You did what you could, Yul. You can’t force Yoona to come back to you.”

Yul sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, then flopped down onto the couch next to his brother. “She hates me,” Yul said, loosening his tie. “I know she does. She’s going to think I did this on purpose to put pressure on her to come back to me.”

“Didn’t you?” Jessie asked.

Yul’s eyes flew to Jessie. “The world was going to find out that Yoona “Im” Kwon is my wife. I did what I had to do.”

Jessie sighed. “She can’t hate you for that.”

Yul shook his head. “I hope you’re right.”

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Yoona had been right. Just beyond the gate to her apartment building had been a zoo when she’d left. She’d left early for the airport, knowing they’d be tailing her the entire time. The whole episode had put Yoona in full on panic mode. The last time they’d been hounding her like this, she had wound up in the hospital in a coma.

She’d called her record company before departing LAX, so when she’d arrived at JFK in New York, there was a limousine waiting immediately at the curb for her. The limo had stopped at Starbucks to get Yoona a Peppermint Mocha, and then she’d headed directly for the penthouse she’d reserved earlier. Flashes blinded her as she exited the limousine, but Siwon, the security officer that was on shift, guided her quickly inside by the elbow. “Are you okay, Mrs Kwon?” he asked concerned.

Yoona swallowed past the sudden lump in . No one had called her Mrs Kwon... at least not on purpose, in a long time. She’d forgotten how much she liked it. She smiled softly at the security guard, glad that he recognized her. She’d been here a few times before. “Yes, Siwon, thank you, you’ll have my luggage brought up?” she asked.

He grinned at her, an almost paternal grin, with a hint of sympathy. “Sure thing, Mrs Kwon,” he said, using her married name again.

She sighed thoughtfully and headed to the elevator.

The first thing she did when she arrived in her freshly cleaned penthouse was place an order of takeout from her favourite Korean restaurant, told them what time she wanted it to arrive, then she relaxed with a nice, long, hot shower.

By the time she towelled off and got into her comfy clothes, there was a knock on the door and her food was there. Yoona paid for the food, giving the young girl a generous tip then went into the living area to sprawl out on the couch and feed her emotions. Tiffany had been right... Yoona lost weight when she’d had too much, but apparently she’d passed even the point of too much, because she was famished.

Yoona hadn’t sat down to enjoy a movie since she’d been in North Carolina, so she decided that she was due. She grabbed the remote that was placed just so on the coffee table and the television. Of course, Yul’s face was still gracing the screen. She kept flipping, but channel after channel, Yul was the only thing she saw.

One thing she hadn’t counted on... she was Knicks town on. Yul’s town. And he was here, too. That could only mean one thing. Pandemonium.

Six hours later, it was five o’clock in the morning and Yoona was still glued to the television set. She’d seen clip after clip, documentary after documentary, and still she hadn’t gotten enough of Yul.

This New York air was really getting to her. Feeling like she needed to clear her head, she called down to the front desk. “Mrs Kwon. Can I help you?” the woman asked politely.

“Yes,” Yoona said brusquely. “I’d like to go for a walk. Is there a security officer available to me?” she asked.

“Yes, there is, Mrs Kwon. When will you be down?”

“In about five minutes,” she told the woman, hanging up. She threw on a pair of khaki’s and a white t-shirt, then a jean jacket over that, and headed for the lobby. When the elevator doors opened, the uniformed officer was standing there waiting for her.

She grinned at him. “Hello, Onew,” she said.

He gave her a curt nod, all business. “Mrs Kwon,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “How many times have I told you? Call me Yoona,” she instructed in a light tone.

She saw his lips twitch in amusement. “Mrs Kwon, there are still a few lingering members of the paparazzi waiting to catch a glimpse of you. Shall we leave out the back?” he asked.

“We shall,” she agreed, letting him lead the way.

Once outside in the New York air, she felt refreshed... if New York air could do that for you. She walked down the streets slowly, Onew close behind her, her mind a jumble of thoughts. Two months ago, she’d been Yoona “Im” Kwon, music sensation. Overnight, she’d been catapulted into superstardom, and it had very little to do with her musical talent, and everything to do with the fact that when she was sixteen years old, she’d married future NBA sensation Yul Kwon. She sighed and wondered if she’d do it all over again. Would she do it all over again if she’d known then that they’d lose their precious son to cancer? Would she do it all over again, knowing that in all of their inexperience, they’d hurt each other a hundred times over? Yoona took a deep breath as she realized, that yes, she’d do it all over again. She wondered if she’d do anything differently, and knew the answer to that immediately. She would have fallen into her husband’s arms when he’d told her he was leaving New York and she would’ve gone with him. She frowned, wondering if it was too late.

A truck up ahead caught her attention, and she watched as a man got out and dropped bundles of newspapers on the ground in front of a newspaper stand, and she hurried over to see what the headlines read. She didn’t typically read them, but what the hell? This hadn’t been a typical twenty four hours for Yoona. She patted her pocket to see if she’d brought any cash with her... she certainly wasn’t going to steal the tabloids, and was relieved to find that she did.

“Onew, do you have a pocket knife?” she asked, crouching down by the bundles. One immediately appeared at her side, and she took it, cutting through the thick plastic straps. When she was done, she handed it back to Onew, took one of each of the newspapers, and placed the correct amount of cash underneath a rock to hold it there. She flipped open, and nothing could have prepared her for what she saw next.