Jisoo's POV.
6:00PM
It wasn't in any way easy to go home and pretend as if a shift hadn't taken place in our relationship. Pretend that I was the good wife. Pretend that I hadn't betrayed my husband in the worse possible way.
This thing with Lisa didn't happen just once. It warped into an actual affair. Even though I knew that it was wrong I couldn't stop.
Usually, when Suho came home dinner was already prepared and sitting in the oven so it wouldn't be cold when he eventually arrived home. That day though, I was running behind because I spent most of the day with Lisa and then trying to escape the quarrel between herself and her girlfriend/fuck-buddy; whichever.
I prepared one of Suho's favorite dishes; steak, baked potatoes, and asparagus.
I uncorked a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and poured myself a glass, and swallowed the entire glass before pouring a second. As I poured the third, Suho made his way through the front door.
Suho pressed his lips against mine as he sat his Hermes briefcase that I bought for him last Christmas on the floor near the sofa.
As I prepared Suho's plate, my mind wandered back to the grocery store,
I was sulking thinking about Lisa. Wondering what a normal relationship with her could be like. I doubt she ever had a substantial relationship. I would bet that she'd been steadfastly single her entire life. What would be the purpose of dating someone who doesn't want to get married?
I wondered who or what had hurt her. I wondered about her past, her parents, her childhood. I wondered what turn of events or persons made Lisa the woman she was.
I found myself wandering aimlessly through the aisles trying to decide what to cook Suho for dinner when my eyes caught on the rows of pasta noodles in aisle 7.
-flashback
"Jisoo?" A voice called making me drop several dozen boxes of pasta noodles haphazardly store on a shelf.
I looked up and noticed Jonghyun, Suho's best friend. It was a hard task to not roll my eyes or run in the opposite direction.
"Jonghyun," I said. Clumsily, I kneeled to pick up the boxes of pasta. He reached down and picked up the last remaining boxes. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said curtly. His Prada loafer smacking against the tile as he sharply cut the distance between us. He straightened the lapel of his suit and crossed his arms. He was studying me with cold blue eyes that offset the charcoal black of his hair.
I stacked the boxes back on the shelf and presumed to not look as clumsy as I felt.
Jonghyun was Suho's roommate back at college and they were still best friends. I didn't much like him and I believed he felt the same about me.
"So, how's Suho? How's everything?" Jonghyun questioned.
Sometimes I wondered if he was some sort of spy. His questions were always intrusive and frank like he was digging for information.
I forced a smile. "You see him more than I do. I should ask you."
Jonghyun and Suho work very closely together. Neither Suho, nor Jonghyun ever mentioned what exactly Jonghyun did for a living and I didn't care enough to ask.
"His work is stellar as usual but he seems preoccupied lately."
"He just made partner. That's to be expected. Right?"
"I suppose. But I get the impression that this is more about you than his work."
"What does that mean?"
