Sleepless Nights

            What would you say if I confessed that there were times that I despised being famous, that I just wanted to be left alone and be a normal person who wasn’t recognized by fans on the street and chased after by the media all the time?  Would you think me selfish?  Or would you think it perfectly reasonable that someone famous would have moments like that?  You’d probably think it was normal once in a while.  I’m human, just like everyone else, after all. 

            But what if I told you that my selfish moment was asking my husband not to tell anyone else when he was home visiting the first time he was released for a break from his enlistment?  What if I told him I wanted him to visit me alone.  Not only were his family and friends eager to see him, but his fans had high hopes of catching glimpses or seeing pictures of him uploaded to social media as well.  I knew this.  They were desperate for a little peak of him after he’d been away for so many months.  But if I asked him—as a birthday present to me—just to spend the time with me alone and tell no one else when he was back, would you think that sensible or selfish?

            Thankfully, the only person that had to answer that question was Ryeowook and he never guilted me about it. 

            I ran my finger over his lips, staring at him as he laid beside me on the bed.  I hadn’t taken my eyes off of him since he’d walked in the door.  I couldn’t.  Deep inside, I had this irrational fear that if I looked away too long, he’d disappear again.  I even insisted on making love with the lights on.  His eyes were growing heavy, tired from travelling during the day, but I had no intentions of sleeping while he was back home.  I meant to stay awake, even if just to watch him sleep, to ensure I wasn’t dreaming.

            “I feel a little bad for your mother now,” I confessed.  “Although I still don’t want to call her and tell her that you’re here.”

            Ryeowook smiled, suppressing a laugh.  “I’ll have time to visit my parents after you enlist.”

            “Don’t ever tell her that you visited me first or she’ll never forgive me,” I said, leaning down to brush my lips against his.

            “Your secret is safe with me,” he promised, wrapping his arms around my neck and pulling me closer.  “But how are you going to guarantee that Leeteuk won’t blab on us?  What if he tells Heechul?”

            “I told Leeteuk for the sole purpose of keeping Heechul away from here for the next few days.  Otherwise he comes to check on me periodically if he hasn’t heard from me,” I informed him.

            “You should maybe be proactive and call him, just to tell him you’re okay.”

            “He’d instantly be suspicious.  I never call him.”

            “Your own fault for being a rotten maknae.”

            “I call you,” I pointed out.  There are only three people I routinely call: Ryeowook, Changmin, and my mother.  A few others sometimes get a call, like Minho or Eunhyuk or one of the managers, when they’re not resp