POISE//AMBW

13.

I recieved multiple looks walking into my workplace, but I always shot them glares to not question it. I had no one to talk to, except Mr. Park, but I feared his reaction to such violence I was allowing my wife to take action on me.

I entered the elevator, sighing once I saw Ms. Lee. The young woman threw her head up in some sort of secret defiance and didn't look at me. I pressed the button to the floor that would lead me to my office. An uncomfortable air gathered around us which made me shift to my other foot every few seconds.

Ms. Lee cleared her throat.

"Is there something you want to say, Ms. Lee?" I turned my head towards her, finally taking a look. No bit of lasciviousness towards her whatsoever. It was more of a self pity. Maybe this was a consequence of cheating on my wife. What if she found out? Is this the reason why she is acting this way towards me?

"What happened to your face?" She coughed up in disgust. Her eyes roamed my body and stopped at my beaten facial features, eyebrows raising in a sort of amazement.

"That's none of your business, along with everyone else's. Understood?" I corrected her. Clearly, she's forgotten how to properly address someone of higher position. Ms. Lee rolled her eyes in response to my scolding and crossed her arms like a child that she was. Skepticism filled my mind; how could I ever have sexual relations with someone who had a mind of a child?

The elevator dinged and we both exited silently. My shoulders shot pain as the weight from the briefcase that was slung carelessly around me bounced up and down on each stride I took. Bounding towards the door of my office, I went straight to my desk. My assistant greeted me, but I didn't reply, setting the mood for the atmosphere for the day. I was not to be bothered by anyone. It was already bad enough that everyone was giving me uneeded attention because of my outer image, which was suddenly hindered. Yet, I would not allow that to damage my work ethic.

Many hours passed, but I didn't take any notice of the time that was flying by. Work was the only thing that could take my mind off things. I stopped what I was typing and looked at the clock. I had worked for seven hours straight with no break in between. The thought of food made my stomach wail at me for making it wait so long for lunch.

I went into the small designated area for faculty and staff to eat and saw that only a few people occupied the area. I grabbed a few food items and paid for my food, finding a seat near the window.

An endless amount of cars filled the street. You could see small figures that looked like ants walking along the sidewalks---some hand in hand, others walking alone. The sky was a bright blue and clouds crawled on, stopping every so often to provide the ants with shade. Venders were out selling street food; everyone seemed happy.

Everyone except me.

"Hey, Namjoon! What're you doin sittin alone? You ain't got no friends?" I jumped at the sound of a loud booming voice, snatching me from my personal thoughts. I choked on the last bit of my bulgogi and begin hitting my chest to save myself from sudden death. Mr. Park only laughed.

"You scared me!" The bowl man took a seat in front of me with his own food: banana milk and black noodles.

"Ah!---whatever. What you been up to? Street fight?" He asked me, slurping his noodles loudly. I gave him a weird look in return instead of answering his question. A short pause embedded us.

"No street fight. I'd rather not discuss this right now---not here, at least." I tugged at my tie irritably. It wasn't his fault that you let someone put their hands on you. Don't talk your angers out on him. It's all your fault anyways. You have to be better, Namjoon.

Mr. Park shot a suspicious look in my direction, completely forgetting about his food. I couldn't see his eyebrows due to his awful haircut, but I knew they were in a deep frown.

"You wanna lie to me again, son? Or you wanna tell the truth?" His Busan accent rang through heavily. I knew I was in for it.

Fumbling with my fingers, I gave in.

"Um...it's embarrassing. I'd rather not say, Mr. Park. It's far too embarrassing. I don't know what's happening."

"What do you mean? You in trouble with the law, you do drugs and you need money to pay someone back? Because, I have money! You need money?" He reached for his pockets; I stopped him, my eyes pleading for him to understand my situation.

"No, I don't need your money. Keep your money. Please." I sighed. I can't tell anyone what's happening. I just can't. My mouth grew dry.

"Then, what's the problem, sunny boy? What's got your face all beat up and your drawls all up in a twist?"

"My wife hits me..." I whispered, ashamed.

Mr. Park's face became distorted before his lips pulled into a smile. He threw his head up in a fit of laughter, people turned around and gave him a nasty look for the uproar of commotion. We need not disturb the peace.

"What you mean, 'my wife hits me'?" He snorted, causing a lot of 'Aish!'s from the people around us.

"My wife, Amara, hits me. I don't know what's gotten into her, Mr. Park. She's not the same." I told him, spilling everything I had into his hands. My face boiled immediately; he did not stop laughing. Something about the thought of a man getting abused by his significant other which just so happened to be a female, entertained him.

"What man let's a woman hit him?" He wiped his tears away with a napkin that he had brought to the table. I stared at him with a loss of words. The one person that I thought I could go to, does not care about my well being at all.

"Well, what do you expect me to do? Hit her back? I can't hit a woman! I think we both know that, Mr. Park, and you, of all people, should be the one to understand." I shot at him, anger now evident in my posture.

"Look now, son, it is none of my business what goes down in your household. After all, you let it happen. Why don't you defend yourself, take a defense class, maybe?" He teased, laughing at his own joke.

"You of all people. Goodbye, Mr. Park." I threw my chair back, getting up. I went straight to my office and went back to work.

I had lost a friend.

I had lost my wife.

I had lost my everything.

All in a blink of an eye, I was held back into another kind of captivity, this one being unlike the last. I would soon have to adapt to this lifestyle. What can I do to please my wife? What can I do to make her stay? What can I do to make her love me again?

Why is it that, now that I am losing myself, she is just now finding herself? Was she not happy all the years we spent in college together? Did I truly help her or did I make it worse?

I groaned loudly, slamming my hand on the desk. My thoughts would not cease at all. I would have to deal with all of this guilt.

Maybe, it really is my fault.

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