The Breakup Between You and Me - Episode 20

Episode 20

“Why the hell do you come every day?” she asked, shaking off the hand on her shoulder and sweeping her hair away from her face. His eyes were wide open.

“Because this place is nearby…….” he began.

“Shameless,” she cut in.

“I’m not shameless. I’m nervous,” he explained. He swallowed dryly, his neck bobbling uncomfortably up and down. Her heart sank as she saw him smiling so brilliantly at the baby. She remembered her sister telling her she’d never have children.

On the one hand, she was happy that he was unaware of her infertility, but she worried about his reaction if he did find out.

Will he experience heartbreak or choose to end the relationship? She clutched the packaging tightly, aware of his discreet sidelong glance in her direction, yet she refrained from turning to meet his gaze. She was convinced that if she did, she would witness him trembling.

“You could find it elsewhere,” she suggested, attempting to create some emotional distance between them.

“It’s drawing near,” he uttered, his voice cracking.

“But I’m just a customer here,” he insisted.

“Here are the flowers,” she announced, presenting them to him with a serious expression. She squinted her eyes as she handed him the flowers.

“I need you to improve the condition of the roof,” he added.

“I don’t find it to my liking,” she responded.

“I promised to tidy it up, but my efforts have been in vain,” he clarified.

He purchased pots and flowers daily, endeavoring to place them on the roof.

“You might despise me, but please don’t hold any ill feelings towards the flowers. A garden up there would be truly beautiful.”

“…….”

I recognize that a glass garden, exactly as he described it, would be breathtaking, and I could easily lose track of time while engrossed in it. Since childhood, I’ve wished for a garden like that, a spot where I could read a book and simply recline amidst my favorite plants, experiencing complete contentment.

I was aware that if I established such a garden, I’d find excuses to come and go regularly, which is why I fought the notion at first, thinking that I’d be pulled to it with irresistible need. In retrospect, it appears he understands my preferences far too well.

He recalls the casual conversation we had about the glass garden and requests that I undertake its decoration. “Will you do it?” When I remain silent, he accepts the flowers and hands the card to Soo-Jung. She blushed, accepted the card, and proceeded to the checkout.

“I’ll go through with it. I’ll come back every day until you allow me to. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he reassured me. I stole a glance at the scar on the back of his hand cradling the flowers, then turned away, pondering, “Could he possibly be the man of my dreams?”

I smiled as I saw Soo-jung’s feelings for him, thinking he was particularly endearing. But then I noticed the entrance from which he had exited. I went to work the day after the stalker incident and was taken aback.

Security cameras and three locks had been installed, and the damaged glass had been properly cleaned up. As if it wasn’t enough to make me feel safe, there was also a button on my door that could call the police.

“I don’t understand why you keep breaking up with someone so wonderful,” she said.

“Am I really that wonderful?” I wondered.

“Well, that’s precisely why I’m breaking up with him. I feel uncomfortable because I want to communicate with him in some way.” There was a moment of stillness. “His gazing at me so intensely. If it were me, I’d march right up to him!”

I couldn’t keep track of how many girls attempted to initiate conversations with Han Se-hyuk using every method possible during my college years.

Despite being highly sought after, he consistently showed me exceptional kindness, frequently gracing me with warm smiles. The way he confessed his feelings for me was undeniably heartwarming. If it weren’t for the telltale sign of her blushing ears, I might not have realized she was quivering with nervousness.

Apart from Han Se-hyuk, I harbored a strong dislike for all other suitors. I turned down every man who expressed their affection for me. The day we finally became a couple was the happiest day of my life, a memory that continues to fill my heart with joy.

“Let’s stop talking and concentrate on cleaning,” she said.

“Yeah,” I grumbled, but a small smile crept onto the corner of my mouth as I observed Soo-Jung diligently sweeping the floor.

* * *

“You didn’t think you two would end up getting married, did you?” I paused for a bit before responding, “Yeah.”

Ms. Ha-Young contacted us during our lunch break. She informed me that Secretary Shin and the woman I had assumed was his fiancée had married the previous year. She is still working in the United States and visits Korea every few months.

“They make such a great couple. It’s almost painful to watch,” she said.

Ms. Jimin had complained about not having anyone to spend out with since she’s married, and Secretary Shin’s marriage just contributed to her loneliness. Sipping on hot coffee seemed to calm their stomachs a little.

“Doesn’t Se-yeon have a boyfriend?” she asked, her gaze shifting toward Ha-young, who noticed the ring on her finger.

“No, I don’t have one,” Se-yeon replied.

“I think the loneliness creeps in more during the colder weather, especially with Christmas approaching. What are your plans for the holiday?” she inquired.

“I’m planning to spend it at my parents’ house,” she replied.

“Do you think they’ll appreciate that? My parents are always grumbling about their grown-up daughter coming home without a date. I don’t want to be a bother, so I’m opting out,” I added, a subtle smile playing at the edges of my mouth.

My mother still calls me several times a day. Even after I expressed my lack of interest in attending the Zen Center, she sent me a text saying she had set up a date for me. When I didn’t pick up the phone, she turned to texting me instead.

 I let out a sigh, pondering why my mom had reacted so strongly and sadly when I told her I had no intention of getting married.

“Oh, by the way, do you happen to know about that girl who’s been trying to get close to your boss recently?” She asked.

“Is that so?” I asked, puzzledly looking at Ms. Ha-Young, confused about how I could be privy to such information.

“He visits our place every other day, requesting that I fetch him coffee and order food for him. He also frequents the glass garden and pretends to be acquainted with me,” she went on to say.

“Why are you telling me this?” I questioned, breaking the contemplative pause.

“There’s an office bet going on whether the boss is smitten with her or not,” Ms. Ha-Young added.

“I understand,” I said.

“Do you think she’s the only woman the boss is interested in? She’s incredibly attractive,” she went on to say.

“Yes, she’s very attractive,” I said.

“With his looks, perfect figure, and considerable wealth, it’s strange to think that she hasn’t returned her feelings,” she said.

I simply smiled at Ms. Ha-Young, not knowing what to say.

“Well, I have to run! I’ll come back to spend time with you the next time!” she exclaimed as she walked away.

“Take care,” I called after Ms. Ha-Young as she walked away. As she left, the world seemed to settle into a quieter rhythm. Ms. Ha-Young had many questions and much to discuss, especially concerning him, a man who held a special place in her life.

Ms. Ha-Young’s words left me feeling uneasy, but I chose not to dwell on them and instead got up to clean the coffee cups. In the afternoon, the cafe became so crowded that I felt overwhelmed.

To catch a break, I stepped outside to run some errands and stopped by a coffee shop to purchase her favorite frappuccino. Even in the winter, she enjoyed it iced.

I laughed at the image of her eating ice cubes and stating that even when she got a cold, it was because she had too much internal heat.

Something cold landed on the back of my hand as I walked to the flower store with my frappuccino in hand. I came to a halt and looked up at the sky, where a cascade of white blossoms was going down. It was my first encounter with the season’s first snowfall, and it unexpectedly made my heart skip a beat.

As I continued walking toward the shop, I came to a complete stop.

It was Han Se-hyuk, accompanying a lovely young woman, and even though he was walking behind her, she instantly recognized him.

He glanced at her with a smile as she patted his forearm, and then he resumed walking. Struggling to ignore the situation, to pretend not to notice, she turned her head and hurried back into the florist’s shop.

“Wow, that’s refreshing. Thanks,” she said, and then added, “Soo Jung, could you get me some ice water?”

“Ice?” she questioned. “In the winter?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Why do you need ice in the winter?” she inquired, but when she questioned her about the ice, she remained silent. It left her feeling peculiar. She ran her hand through her hair, annoyed at herself for acting as if she had seen something she shouldn’t have.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. She gulped down the cold water in one go and chewed on the ice, but it didn’t quite quell her unease.

“You’re here?” she heard the door open, and Soo-Jung greeted him cheerfully.

Getting up from my seat, I shifted my gaze, and there he stood. I paused briefly but then offered a nod in greeting. He’s a visitor, nothing more than a customer—a prosperous customer who buys flowers daily. I mentally reassured myself that there was no need to experience guilt or melancholy.

“Give me some flowers,” he requested.

“What kind?” I inquired.

“Something colorful. I like colorful,” he replied.

I bit the inside of my cheek, recalling the woman in the red dress I had seen earlier.

“Alright. Just a moment,” I replied.

My phone rang, and I looked to see my mom calling. She had invited me to visit for the weekend, so I promptly texted her, saying, “I’ll be there this weekend.” When I eventually returned home, she might scold me for my conduct, but at that particular moment, I didn’t believe it would affect me much.

Ignoring the onlookers’ curious stares, she expertly wrapped the mostly red and vibrantly arranged flowers.

“They’re beautiful; she’ll surely love them,” I said, for the first time. Initially, he intended to offer those flowers to a woman she mistook for his fiancée, but he later mentioned taking them to work or displaying them in his home. He was now giving them to someone else.

I averted my sight while she calculated the bill and cleared up the table.

“Farewell.”

He didn’t react, and I heard the door open as he left. I gently turned to look out the window; the snow was falling fiercely. I noticed him walking away in the distance, clutching a bright red flower. The white snow provided a backdrop that enhanced the vibrancy of the blooms. She made it gorgeous, but it’s not worth it. It isn’t worth it.

I returned my attention to Soo-Jung, who questioned as to what was bothering me. I assured her it was nothing, but I had a gnawing sensation in my gut.

It was late the following evening when he appeared.

“Don’t you have work?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Did something happen to… you that’s bothering you?” he asked, stealing a glance at me. I furrowed his brow, and he fixed his gaze on my face, prepared to lend an ear, before finally lowering my eyes.

“No,” I said.

“…You seem rather distant,” he observed.

“You should go on ahead. I have an appointment,” I stated.

“An appointment? What for?” he inquired.

“Never mind,” I responded.

I shot him a withering look, making it clear that my plans were none of his concern. My frosty gaze implied that he should go away, and she straightened her posture, nodding in acknowledgment.

Once he left, I turned my attention to the window and observed the streets in disarray from the heavy snowfall the previous day. It was the season’s first snow, and it had built up, mirroring the chaos within my heart.

I stood up from my chair, my shoulders weighed down by exhaustion. I swept the freshly cleaned floor, collected all the unused cups, and started washing the dishes.

My mood had been sour since yesterday. I didn’t want any involvement with him, let alone a relationship, and it was frustrating because I couldn’t pinpoint why.

As soon as I got home, I swiftly downed a can of beer. After a shower, I emerged and cracked open another can.

I was determined to get drunk today, and I had made a promise to myself that if I drank enough to become inebriated one more time without eating, I wouldn’t consider myself a person anymore.

However, that promise was shattered as I drank without consuming any food, and it left me feeling nauseous.

I couldn’t be bothered to prepare a snack. Instead, I reached for another can of beer from the fridge to appease my empty stomach. I thought it might help me fall asleep. After consuming three cans in a row, I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded. It made me feel a little better.

I reclined on the couch and closed my eyes, and the room seemed to spin. I slowly turned my head at the sound of a thud from outside. Someone was knocking on the door. I stumbled my way to the door.

“Who is it?” I asked, attempting to hide the slight slurring in my voice.

The sound of another thud sent a shiver down my spine.

“Who’s there?” I inquired, but there was no response.

One more knock on the door, and I turned to grab my cell phone to call the police. However, I heard faint muttering from outside.

“Who’s there?” a voice grew more insistent.

“It’s me,” the voice replied.

“……”

“Se-Yeon, it’s me. Open the door, please,” he said, his voice slurred with intoxication.

Cautiously, I opened the door. I bit my lip as I watched him struggle to keep his eyes open, his shoulders slumping under the influence of alcohol.

I had been drinking to forget, and now he was at my door, leaving me unable to think straight. My heart was racing.

My stomach churned at the sight of him standing there, clearly disoriented and swaying.

“Se-Yeon…,” he called my name with a mournful tone. The cold wet snow was becoming too much for me, and I unconsciously took a step back.

He extended his hand and gently pulled my arm, helping me to my feet, and I blinked in response to his embrace.

“Se-yeon, Se-yeon…” he repeated my name in a pleading tone.

His heart hammered against his cheek, his tie was crooked, and two buttons on his shirt were undone, all signs of excessive alcohol consumption.

I raised my hand to gently push him away after a brief hesitation, but his arms clung to me. He exhaled while burying his lips in the nape of my neck, his warm breath tickling the soles of my feet, making my toes wiggle involuntarily.

“Let go,” I said again, pushing against his chest to break free. He paused for a second before releasing his grip and rushing into the house.

“Get out,” I ordered.

“I don’t want to,” he responded stubbornly.

I glared at him, and he closed his mouth.

“Let go?” I inquired, noticing his grip on my wrist trembling slightly.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked, his voice trailing off as he observed my flushed cheeks. I flicked my wrist, silently signaling for him to release me.

“Did you drink too much?” I inquired once more, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and watching as he closed his eyes.

“Come on in,” I said.

“Huh?” he replied, taken aback.

Arguing on the front porch seemed unnecessary, especially with a drunken person. So, in my sober judgment, I decided to take a step back. When I eventually invited him inside, I noticed that his eyes were unsteady.

“I’ll get you a glass of water. You should drink it,” I offered.

“Thanks,” he replied.

I turned to leave, smiling wryly, not wanting him to see my flushed face, and hurried to the kitchen.

Fortunately, I had recently bought some honey, which was a stroke of luck. As I dissolved honey in water, I felt his gaze on my back. Suddenly, I recalled the image of him holding a colorful flower and bit my lip.

“The… flowers I bought earlier, did you like them?” he inquired.

“Huh?” I replied, momentarily confused.

“The flowers I bought earlier, did you like them?” he repeated.

“Oh, that?” I responded as I turned around with the cup of honey water in my hand. In my clumsiness, some of the nectar sloshed and spilled onto the back of my hand.

He lowered his gaze while standing a short distance away, fixating on me. His eyes were locked on my wet hands, and he took a step closer.

“She loved it,” I said.

He slumped back, his eyes twitching, as I became silent. He gently grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled the cup from my grasp.

“You spilled it,” I murmured, noting that he had battled to maintain his composure earlier, so why was he so composed now?

I swallowed uneasily, the heat of his gaze on the back of my neck heating up. He drew my wrist closer and put his lips to my moist fingers with excruciating slowness. I tried to pull my hand free, but his grip on my wrist was tight.

“Ugh. Let go, let go,” I grumbled.

The atmosphere changed abruptly, and he sighed as the spot where his tongue had touched my hand tingled.

“I’ll drink the honey water later,” he said.

He placed the cup on the sink and reached for it. I must have been more intoxicated than he was, or I wouldn’t have swatted his hand away.

His hand curiously brushed the nape of my neck, and I found it oddly comforting. I gazed at him as he covertly massaged the nape of my neck, then encircled my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his.

As if it had been anticipated, his lips parted, and I slipped my tongue inside, intertwining and tangling our tongues. The sound of our saliva mixing was raw and unfiltered.

In my mind, I repeated, “I should stop, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t.” My hands slipped a few times, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. His hands moved swiftly, exploring every nook and cranny as he undressed me.

He prodded and stroked my br*asts, hoping for a bit more.  I leaned down and gripped his throbbing c*ck, swallowing his impatient gasp.    

“Mmmph!” 

He pressed his lips to hers again and pinched her n*pple hard, turning his head to the other side. I was becoming impatient.

I’d like him to touch me down there, but his hand won’t let go.  He throws me to the floor. I climbed on top of him and kissed him, swaying my hips slowly.

His erect p*nis brushed up against my p*ssy as a result of the friction. I was convinced I was going insane.  Reason had already left the building. I removed his boxers and showed his p*nis.

He grabbed my shoulders as I pulled down his boxers and pressed the glans on my v*g*na. His brown eyes twinkled as I glanced down at him.  

His body turns at the same moment. I place my hands behind his head to prevent our skulls from colliding, and he shoves me to the ground. For a little moment, our lips parted.

I look up at him, my cheeks flaming, and he stares back at me.  We remained quiet. I could see by their expressions that they were in love. He had his palms all over me.    

“Ha, ha, ha, hmmm!” I responded with each touch.

I squirmed as he looked between my parted legs, but his hands asked me to extend my thighs wider. A trickle of juice poured from beneath him, and his eyes grew dark.    

“No more, I can’t take it.”

He moved his c*ck in and out of her hole, rubbing his glans around her p*ssy. A s*cking sound pierced my ears. Normally, I would have been mortified, but I felt strangely unaffected.  

I wiggled my hips and grabbed on his waist, pleading with him to hurry up.

The stretched lining surprised me, uncomfortably squeezing my c*ck. His mouth released a faint whimper. I clenched my teeth and turned to face him. He pushed his lips on his brow.  

His tongue kissed the moisture on his nasal bridge.  When he was dressed, the fragrance of alcohol assailed my nostrils, but now that we were lying n*ked and shuffling, it was filled with his usual scent, not the smell of alcohol.

I’m a little suspicious, but his rapid hip movement immediately dispels my doubts.  He put my legs over his shoulders and frantically flicked his hips, his body bouncing up and down.

He licked my bouncing br*asts and flicked my n*pples with his tongue. Dazed by each stroke, I twisted my hips.  

My v*g*nal walls resisted to let go of him, chewing and swallowing his filth. She had to be insane. They lay on the floor, lusting at one other like animals, even though a couch was only a few steps away.  

At the base of his p*nis, a gaping hole appeared. He whimpered quietly as it twitched slightly.

She couldn’t stop herself since it was so nice, even if she was a slut.  She wrapped her arms around his neck out of reflex at the time.    

“Kiss me.”    

His lips collided with mine before I could complete what I was saying. I was bewildered by the taste of him spinning in my mouth, threatening to stab me in the neck.        

He moaned as he chewed on the back of my neck. My heart felt like a fireball had hit it. My entire body was ticklish, particularly my p*ssy, and when I twitched my legs, he dug deep as if he knew everything.

As he pushed deeper and deeper into my v*g*na, I screamed with pleasure. I sway my hips like a hungry woman to his beat.  

I wish he’d stop for a second, but he has no intention of doing so. With each forceful thrust, I felt like my bottom was about to slide out from under me.

My breath became stuck in my throat. My toes curled inward and my back arched. His head tilts and dips, but he keeps thrusting his hips.  

I screamed in response to the terrifying heave. It wasn’t pain, it wasn’t agony, it was just our tears as we reached the climax. His stomach burned as he gasped and stopped thrusting.

I yanked free from the arms that had been clutching me fiercely. He shook his head and closed his eyes.  He ejaculated, but he didn’t pull it out; instead, he gripped me tightly.

The pounding of his heart on my chest.  His eyes continued to close. I drank and worked muscles I hadn’t worked in a long time.

I opened my mouth to speak as sleep flowed in like a torrent, feeling the warmth of his arms.  

* * *

“Ugh.”    

I wiggled my legs in frustration, my entire body throbbing from the sensation of being restrained.    

“Ugh,” I groaned into the arms that were wrapped around my back. I’d lost track of how many times we’d done this the day before, and I’d stopped counting after the third time.

My throat ached from screaming so loudly.  I didn’t make it to the bed; instead, I f*cked like an animal on the couch and the floor before falling asleep on his coat because there was no blanket.

I pushed myself up, untangling his arm from around my waist.  C*m spilled out how much he’d shot from beneath him.

Truly bizarre.  I gritted my teeth, desperately blaming it on the drink.  When I try to stand up, a muscular arm wraps around my waist.    

“…Are you awake?” asked a lower-pitched voice, and I turned my head. To keep myself warm, I draw up my shed coat.    

“Wash up.”  

“I want to stay like this for a little while longer.”

“Wash up and get out.”    

He stood up and went to the restroom. He grasped his coat tightly, not seeing him bare.

I wiped the c*m flowing from underneath and dressed, leaving his clothing in the restroom in front of me.

I sat down on the couch and sighed deeply.  I sat up straighter as I heard the door open. I was at a loss for words. I ran my fingers through my hair.   

“Wash up, huh?” he softly said as he dressed.

“……It was a mistake,” she said, her face hardening.    

“……It’s not.”

“I’m a mistake,” she exclaimed, stunned.

His gaze flitted uncomfortably.    

“It wasn’t a mistake, I meant it.”    

Despite the agony in her voice, she kept her gaze fixed on him.    

“I hit you with what’s left of …….”  

“What?”

“Think of it as the tenth night.” His mouth expanded gently.