On Thin Air

Your Move

Her brows twitched. She made no remark. Sehun didn't expect her to tell him she could forgive him.

He pulled her out of the water, found a towel, and draped it around her. Then he led her back to the bed and tucked her in. Namjoo drifted back to sleep wet hair and all as he dressed and laid down over the blanket beside her.

She slept the rest of the morning. Dressed when he left the room. A driver came to pick them up mid-afternoon and they returned home without sharing a word.

ꜛꜛꜛꜛꜛ

Of all the things in her life, Namjoo was always confident about what she was doing. Today was not one of them.

She didn't know what to do. What to say for herself. What to say to the man that had become her husband.

Every emotion was so blurred and unclear in her head. She felt like a piece of a puzzle that didn't fit. Since returning, she had done nothing but sit on her bed. Around her time waned. Shadows switched directions. The room got a little darker, but she felt stuck in time. She was the second hand of time that had stopped ticking.

Who exactly, she wondered, should she be angry with?

The father who sold her in place of Hea? The step-mother who had stolen her mother's spot? Oh Shiwoo who had forced her into a helpless position? Bestowing her into a powerless marital role? The mother that had died without her?

The plastic cracked beneath her hands as she crumpled up the plan B pills.

Who, who was she supposed to hate the most?!

Namjoo gritted her teeth so hard it felt like the bones might break. The tears burned at the back of her eyes. She cursed them all to their last breath. Hoped they each would die torturously. For making her a woman with a voiceless role in society.

The plastic popped. Slicing her finger.

There was a knock at the door. "Madam? Will you be coming down for dinner?"

Namjoo drew in a shaky breath. She could stay in here, cower, and hide or she could go out there and fight.

"I'll go."

Getting up Namjoo started toward the door then turned back to the bed. Picking up the packet of pills she tossed them into the garbage.

Indeed, the table was set with a nice feast. The smell of food made her stomach rumble. Sehun was at the table resting his head against his hand going through his phone. Hyesoo and her mother were in the kitchen plating the rest of the food. The younger daughter first noticed her.

Gasping first. "Madam! Your hand is bleeding!"

Namjoo glanced down. Seeing the cut from earlier. From the corner of her eye Sehun sat up in his chair, eyes in her direction.

Hyesoo was fastest. Running over, wrapping her hand in a big napkin. "How did this happen?"

Tugging her hand away, Namjoo clutched onto the napkin. "Don't overreact. I'm not dying."

"Where's the first-aid kit? Go find some ointment," Auntie Park called out.

"Yes." Hyesoo darted away.

"Come here," Auntie Park directed.

Deciding it best not to sit down and face Sehun, Namjoo walked over to the elder woman.

"Let me see."

Her motherly hands removed the napkin, touched her injury to observe its seriousness. The warm hands of hers were so tender. Namjoo grew soft momentarily. Envious that she was mom to someone. A warm body, alive and healthy. Namjoo wanted to hug her. Growing emotional for no particular reason.