A Way Home

My Love Story

Slammed with surprising gut-wrenching pain Namjoo clutched her chest. Clenching her teeth to stop the outburst of loud cries but they escaped in waves and waves. Slaughtering her self-control into shreds. Mucus clogged her nose and it ran stupendously. Wiping her nose with an arm she shifted her keys into the engine. Crying frustrated when she couldn't get the keys in.

Very suddenly it felt like she couldn't do anything right.

Nothing at all!

Punching the steering wheel upset Namjoo's chest huffed a shaky inhale. Still wrecked with tears, Namjoo finally started the engine and sped down the road. Her mind a bog as vehicles flashed past in whirls of colors. Beeping, racing ahead of her, and it was like the world continued spinning when hers had abruptly stopped.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't right.

Uncontrollable tears blurred her eyes. Hurriedly wiping them away Namjoo sniffed.

At the speed of light, the earth had opened up beneath her feet. The stable ground she thought she'd been standing on had finally caved.

Skipping the rest of work as she retreated home to bandage her heart. She just wanted a safe place to curl up and hide. Pick up the mismanaged pieces of her life and try to sew it back together.

Home was all she could think about.

Not a step in and she saw Sehun everywhere. On her sofa in his t-shirt and sweats.

"You're home?" A turn of his head, his eyes would land on her, and then ask as he pushed himself up, "Are you hungry?"

Another step in and she could see him in her kitchen rummaging through her fridge. Shuffling over to the cupboards. Pulling out the cutting board, a newly sharpened knife. Neatly laying everything out, so it was handy and easily accessible once he needed it.

"What do you want to eat?" he'd poke his head into the fridge then back out. "Your greens are rotting, Namjoo."

A guttural cry burst out of her mouth. She had taken it for granted. Sehun's presence in her home. Thinking he had been weak and to let him be, but he had been the one looking after her. It was never the other way around. Namjoo plastered a hand over her mouth to keep in the sobs hurling through her helplessly.

Running her eyes over the wiped and empty counters, the dishrack cluttered with dishes after he'd left – her doing. The utensils organized separately into designated drawers that she had messed up when he left. The knives sharpened and put away that were probably dull because she didn't properly take care of them. The silver sink with a shiny gleam and she could hear Sehun saying, "Clean up after yourself. A clean space is worth spending time in and I know you eat a lot. Bacteria gathers and it can be dangerous if you don't look after your kitchen."

To the living room dusted, mopped, swept. The air fresh now spoiled because she'd left a bag of popcorn sitting on her table. The cushions plump and clean because he had flipped them over after using the vacuum's suction cleaner on them. Every inch of her living space thoroughly managed. "You spend a lot of time here, so look after it. Air the room out and don't hide garbage under the sofa."

The bedding had been washed and replaced with another set. The pillow covers a different design than the last. The blanket washed and dried before she even made it home that last cleaning. Meaning Sehun's scent no longer existed. Her clumps of loose hair on the floor were gone. Several items on her vanity misplaced after cleaning, but as she buried her face desperately into his side of the bed, she could hear him comforting, "Rest well, Namjoo."

And it felt like he was right there with her.

But he wasn't.

Curling up, Namjoo hugged the blanket as tears soaked the sheets. Sobbing herself into a desolate state of fitful sleep. Dreaming of that phone call from the hospital again, but this time she hesitated to go. And when Sehun woke up he would be alone. Shedding heartbroken tears behind curtained sheets. Learning for a cruel fact that no one really loved him. She had abandoned him, like the parents who birthed him.