The Breakup Between You and Me - Episode 3

Episode  3

“Get in,” he ordered.

I glanced around, checking if anyone was watching, but he appeared unfazed by any onlookers. I started to say something but decided against it when he made it clear that he would exit the car and physically make me get in if I didn’t comply.

“You want me to step out and fetch you?” he threatened.

Shaking my head as he started to open the car door, I reluctantly shifted my weight and climbed into the vehicle. As I walked away, I wondered why he was so angry. Was it because I hadn’t gone to the underground parking garage? Did my mere presence upset him? My eyes retreated deep into my head.

My throbbing headache, which had been bothering me since morning, felt as if it might explode. As soon as I settled into the car, it began to move, and the journey was carried out in silence.

The suffocating silence felt like it was constricting my throat. I wished for a loud song to drown out the awkwardness that seemed to be choking me. Yet, I knew that this discomfort was entirely of my own making.

I kept my gaze fixed on him as he drove without uttering a word, behaving as if he might forcibly drag me into the car. His eyes, which had been fixed straight ahead, slowly shifted, and our glances met.

My heart sank in response to his emotionless stare, much like a stone dropped on the pavement. Still, I couldn’t allow my emotions to show. I bit down on the inside of my cheek and stared back at him, trying to appear as emotionless as he did.

He continued to gaze at me with an unflinching, cold expression, and then, without a hint of emotion, he turned his head away.

His face, now sharper than before, seemed like that of a wild beast emerging from thorny vines, and it tugged at my heartstrings.

I felt foolish for being concerned about him in the midst of all this.

“……Why did you want to see me?” I inquired.

He parked the car at Hangang Park, a place we had visited together in the past.

“You quit your job,” he stated.

“You’re…?” I responded, blinking in disbelief. He narrowed his eyes, casting a deliberate, slow gaze over me from head to toe. As his thorough inspection progressed, my cheeks grew hot, and I couldn’t quite understand why I felt so self-conscious.

His gaze momentarily lingered on my hair and my hands, which clung to an old bag. I swiftly concealed my hands, comparing them to my former hands that had enjoyed wearing nail polish.

“Stop squirming in front of me,” he admonished.

My mouth gaped open, but I couldn’t find the words to respond.

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” he clarified.

Beneath the cologne that stung my nostrils, I could faintly detect his scent. It was the same fragrance that had greeted me when I first entered the car, a scent I could never forget.

I longed to ask him how he had changed so much while still retaining the same scent, but I felt that I didn’t deserve to do so. Instead, I fixated on the gleaming metal watch adorning his left wrist.

His sigh, not at all concealed, sliced through my body, as though my silence displeased him.

“If you need money, I can provide it,” he offered.

The mention of money startled me.

“Please stop,” I implored.

“Why? Is Mr. Han going to pay me?” My voice quivered, and it felt as though my words were being torn from my throat. I had a haunting sensation that even the slightest drop in my tone would put me in a precarious situation.

“You’re fixated on money,” he observed.

“….”

Yet, as I looked at him again, it appeared that he didn’t care whether I was in pain or not. In fact, it seemed like he was intentionally trying to inflict harm on me.

“…I don’t need it,” I mumbled.

“Why? You do. You seem like you need a lot of money,” he retorted.

I clenched my teeth so tightly that I inadvertently bit my lip, causing it to burst and taste the metallic tang of blood.    

“Isn’t money all you need?”

“…….”

“You’re the one who’d die for money,” he accused.

I couldn’t bear to listen any longer. I felt on the verge of bursting into tears.

“I’m leaving,” I declared.

I attempted to open the car door, but he was quicker. I glared at him as he locked the door.

“We’re not finished yet, and you haven’t given me the answer I want to hear,” he stated, his words so cold that it felt as though the car was turning frigid. Goosebumps appeared on my forearms.

“I can’t comprehend you when you keep repeating yourself.”

For some inexplicable reason, I felt as if I shouldn’t hear the second part. I made another attempt to open the car door, but it remained stubbornly locked. My breath caught in my throat.

My body felt burdened, as if I were a drowning man.

“I’m just feeling kind of shitty for being treated like that right in front of the person I’m belly-to-belly with,” I confessed.

I had thought that nothing would surprise me anymore, but I was left stunned and unable to find words. He had never used such hurtful language before. My eyes flickered like slender branches swaying in the wind.

“If you don’t want to make me feel bad, quit right now. You’re not the kind of person I need to keep the place warm,” he stated, closing his open mouth and swallowing, indicating that he wanted me to leave.

“It’s my job. Don’t tell me what to do,” I retorted.

“You look terrible, and you still have a job. Did you lose your home or something?”

“….”

“You didn’t even bother changing back into your old clothes,” he noted, instead of saying. 

“Why, that’s the way it is now,”

he flicks his well-groomed hair back in annoyance.  I know the feel of that hair. I used to love his fine hair. No, I used to love it. And his long fingers, too.

My heart was pounding in and out of my chest.    

“……don’t pay attention to me.”    

Good job, I said it coldly and without trembling. I took a deep breath and spoke as bluntly as I could.    

“I don’t want you to pretend to know me like this in the future. Like Han Se-hyuk said, we… No, Han Se-hyuk and I, we don’t have that kind of relationship.” His mouth twisted.    

“So don’t tell me what to do.”

I kept my gaze locked with his as he clenched his teeth. I didn’t look away; I endured it. It felt like I was being punished for abandoning him, for leaving him hanging and crying.

“…… I’ll be there,” I finally replied.

I had a lot of work to attend to. I needed to visit the high school and check in on my father. Oh right, I had promised Miho that I would prepare dinner.

“If you want to be treated like that, find a job somewhere else,” he advised.

“Never mind, I already told you not to bother,” I responded, striving to maintain control over my rising voice. I wondered if he recognized my efforts to keep it in check. He started to say something, then thought better of it.

“I’m going to…” I began to say, shaking my head at his offer to drop me off. Very calmly.

“I’ll get off,” I announced.

It was difficult to even be in the same space with him. I could no longer conceal my emotions, so I left the room in a huff.

As I made my way to the bus stop, my anger grew stronger and stronger. I didn’t know whether to direct my anger at him or at myself. Why had I allowed myself to live like this?

I should have lived better, or at the very least, not humiliated myself in front of him. The memory of him uttering hurtful words with an expressionless face and a cold tone replayed in my mind. It felt as though he was scolding me.

My breaths were uneven from holding back tears. The older I grew, the more tears I had to restrain.

I often pondered how many more tears I would need to suppress in the future. Sometimes, I wondered if I could contain them so tightly that they might burst forth like tears from a broken dam. But I had learned long ago that crying in the street didn’t change anything. Today, I needed to keep my tears in check.

I boarded the bus on my way to my dad’s doctor’s appointment. I swiped my card and took my seat but then paused. I observed people on the bus, some with their eyes closed, others engrossed in their cell phones, and a few staring vacantly out the window.

The individuals heading home from work appeared particularly fatigued. I settled into my seat and gazed out the window. They must have experienced numerous days when they had to stifle the urge to cry.

They offered solace to individuals whose faces they didn’t even recognize. It seemed like the least they could do, and it felt necessary. After visiting my father and going to Gosowon, it was well past dinnertime.

“Hey, Cha Se-yeon, I thought you were making dinner!” Miho scolded as soon as I entered, giving me a hard slap on the head. I rubbed my head and apologized, while my mouth watered at the savory aroma of miso stew.

“Are you mad? Tomorrow, I’ll cook something delicious for you. I’m really sorry, alright?”

I poked Miho in the side, and she squirmed away from the tickle.

“Do you want a beer?” she asked.

“Eat your food!” I nuzzled my cheek against Miho’s forearm, as she complained about waiting to eat.

“Well, how about we have a drink while we eat?” I suggested.

“You know that doesn’t work on me, right?” Miho replied.

“I know.”

“Then, grant me a wish.”

“What wish?” I inquired.

Freshly cooked rice on the table, side dishes from Miho’s mother, and a delicious stew; it was a comforting meal, and I dug in eagerly.

“I’ll tell you after we finish eating,” I replied.

“Okay,” Miho agreed.

Miho reprimanded me for eating without washing my hands, but it was a well-deserved scolding.

“What’s your wish?” she asked as we finished our meal, and I began washing the dishes. I was about to start washing them when Miho sat down on the couch and gestured for me to join her.

“I’ll dye your hair.”

“Dye?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah. I just did a commercial for hair dye, and they gave me the leftovers, so I brought a lot.”

Miho tapped her foot on the floor, motioning for me to sit down. I followed her instructions and settled on the floor.

“Is this your wish?” I inquired.

“I can do it thirty times, so leave your hair to me,” Miho assured me with a grin.

I chuckled when Miho mentioned she was finished brushing my hair. Without Miho’s help, I couldn’t have managed it myself.

“Miho, should I marry you?” I playfully asked.

Miho’s hands tightened around my neck as she fastened the clear bag from the hair dye box around my neck.

“Breathe, you’re choking!” I gasped.

“I’m just messing with you. You know that, right?” Miho responded.

“I don’t like you either.”

Miho had a former lover in the United States.

“I don’t give a damn if you’re n*ked and on top of me, I don’t care, I can’t. You know?” she retorted.

She crossed her arms over her chest and lightly punched Miho’s arm while turning her head away.

“I’m the same way, you know,” she added.

Miho continued to dye her hair with meticulous care, and the sensation of her touch was soothing, helping me drift off to sleep.

“Miho…” I began but hesitated.

“Hmm?” Miho responded.

“Never mind. It’s nothing.”

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, thinking about him, but ultimately decided not to bring it up. Miho, a friend since middle school, was the only person who knew the full story of why they had broken up.

“Is something bothering you?” Miho inquired.

“No, it’s nothing,” I replied.

“If you want to talk, you can. Just don’t keep it to yourself,” Miho reassured me.

“Okay,” I replied, intentionally speaking louder to prevent her from worrying unnecessarily.

“Today, I’m shooting an ad for a cosmetics magazine,” Miho explained.

Miho, a photographer, was gaining recognition as an emerging artist. Her dream of making money and going to the United States seemed within reach.

“I brought some cosmetics, so you can use them,” she added.

“Thank you,” I said, knowing that she had brought them specifically for me.

“I’ll make good use of them.”

“Yeah. Take a picture of your ugly face or something and put it online,” Miho teased, prompting me to get up and playfully slap her, but she swiftly grabbed my wrist.

Miho reminded me, “Time’s up, wash your hair. You’re going to break it,” before I could carry out my playful threat to hit her.

* * * * * * * *

After washing my face, I looked in the mirror, and my face appeared very pale. I hadn’t dried my face properly, so water droplets dripped from my chin. I gazed at the water droplets as they fell from the tip of my chin, wetting the sink.

I felt like my face was a mess, so I wiped it dry with a towel. Last night, Miho and I had argued about who would sleep on the couch, and we had even drunk beer.

I hadn’t fallen asleep until past 2 a.m., and now, as I entered Miho’s room, my heart felt heavy. Miho lived in a small apartment with one bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen. She slept on the couch, and I wasn’t sure if she had gone to work before me.

There was a bowl of bean curd soup on the table, probably to soothe her stomach.

“That’s an interesting colorful poem,” I remarked.

I chuckled, thinking about how my friend had turned away from me yesterday when I jokingly mentioned marrying her, and how I had been feeling apologetic about it since the morning.

It wasn’t enough that I had spent the night in her bed; she had also prepared a meal for me. I was accumulating more and more favors owed to her. I decided that I should go to the high school and attend to my dad, as I didn’t want to owe her any more.

After eating and washing the dishes, I stared at the cosmetics Miho had given me. If it weren’t for her comment yesterday, I probably wouldn’t have even considered putting on makeup. I hadn’t thought about makeup ever since Ms. Kim had made that comment about my rudeness for walking around the company barefaced. His words still echoed in my head.

My heart felt heavy as I stared at the makeup. I was nervous, with sweaty hands, about applying makeup for the first time in years.

Six years ago, I used to love wearing makeup, and my vanity was filled with cosmetics. I suddenly remembered the kindness he showed me in bed, whispering that he preferred me without makeup. I recalled the warmth in his eyes as he waited patiently when I cuddled into his chest and didn’t want to show him my face. It was a memory that now seemed unnecessary, one that I needed to let go of.

It appeared that he didn’t just dislike me; he hated me passionately. His eyes conveyed that sentiment clearly. I couldn’t get used to that cold, piercing gaze. I let out a long sigh.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped into the office. The employees turned their heads to look at me, and I could feel their curious gazes on my face, which was now adorned with makeup. I walked to my desk with as much confidence as I could muster, trying to ignore their stares and the thoughts racing through my mind.

I had made a choice to put on makeup, not for them, but for myself. And now, I had to face the day with this new look, whether it made me feel more confident or not.

I was taken aback by Mr. Park’s question. I hadn’t mentioned having a boyfriend, but the question seemed to be coming out of the blue.

“Uh, no, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I replied, feeling a bit flustered.

Mr. Park looked a little surprised by my response.

“I see. Sorry for the misunderstanding,” he said with a smile and left the restroom.

I couldn’t help but wonder why he had asked that question. It seemed like something strange was going on, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than met the eye.

Mr. Park’s piercing gaze made me feel uneasy. It was as if he was trying to read my thoughts or figure something out. I tried to avoid eye contact and continued making the coffee.

He didn’t let up, though, and continued to make small talk while I prepared the coffee. His questions felt intrusive, and I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of discomfort.

As I handed him the coffee, Mr. Park said with a peculiar smile, “You know, Se-yeon, you should be careful who you talk to.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. I had no idea what he meant, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. This day at the office was becoming increasingly strange and unsettling.

The unexpected encounter with my ex-boyfriend had left me rattled. I couldn’t concentrate on work, and the awkward conversation with Mr. Park had only added to my discomfort. I sighed and tried to regain my composure.

As I continued to serve coffee to my colleagues, I couldn’t help but wonder why he had come to the office. The fact that he had witnessed the strange interaction between Mr. Park and me made the situation even more unsettling.

I knew I needed to focus on my tasks and get through the day, but the presence of my ex-boyfriend in the office had thrown me off balance. The day was far from over, and I had no idea what other surprises it might bring.

The memories of my encounters with my ex-boyfriend, both in the car and at the office, kept replaying in my mind. His anger and the coldness in his eyes haunted me, making it difficult to focus on my work. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was so upset with me, and it left me feeling hurt and confused.

As the day dragged on, I tried my best to push aside those troubling thoughts and concentrate on my tasks. I had already been through a lot, and I didn’t need any more emotional turmoil. I knew I had to stay strong and keep moving forward, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

As I slouched at my desk, his words about quitting my job echoed in my mind. It wasn’t as if finding a new job was an easy task, and I couldn’t ignore the practical challenges. However, I couldn’t let go of the thought of him and the expensive speech and physical therapy he needed. My face softened as I contemplated his needs.

The image of him standing in the restroom doorway, his angry expression etched in my memory, was hard to shake. I couldn’t help but wonder if his anger was a result of my refusal to quit my job. Confused and anxious, I suddenly recalled how he had scrutinized my face, leading me to touch my cheek.

In an attempt to reassure myself, I headed to the bathroom and examined my reflection in the mirror, wondering if I looked unusual. I whispered to myself, “I’m fine, right…?”

I couldn’t shake the feeling of being scrutinized earlier. My makeup hadn’t been excessive, so I wondered why he had stared at me that way. I spent some time in front of the mirror, trying to make sense of it all.

After lunch, I decided to escape the bustling crowds and headed to the rooftop. I needed some time to clear my head, as it had been a long and exhausting day filled with interactions with people. Luckily, the rooftop at the architectural office was often overlooked by others.

With my uncle’s permission, I had taken it upon myself to plant flowers, tending to them whenever I had a spare moment. Over time, it had become a beautiful space that provided me with solace.

I had always held a deep affection for flowers and trees since I was a child. At one point, I even aspired to become an arborist. I lovingly watered the flowers and removed the weeds, sensing that summer was approaching. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I took a moment to rest in one of the chairs.

The rooftop of the architectural office provided a serene view of the adjacent forest park. As I gazed at the tall trees reaching for the sky, my complex thoughts seemed to untangle bit by bit.

My lips curled into a subtle smile. Nature, with its upright trees and blooming flowers, had a way of soothing my spirit. I leaned back in my chair, tilting my head to take in the vast expanse of the blue sky above.

I gradually closed my eyes, allowing the gentle breeze to play with my hair, its caress touching my face. It was moments like these that made me yearn for a life with less strenuous demands, where I could savor the simple pleasures of nature.

However, I couldn’t linger in that tranquil moment. For some inexplicable reason, a sense of foreboding washed over me. It was as if I were experiencing the eerie stillness that precedes a storm, and a shiver ran down my spine.   

* * * * * * * *

You can sense that something is amiss as you prepare for the dinner party. You had previously made plans with Miho and texted her about it. Miho, who was also nearby, offered to pick me up after work, and we’d go home together.

Miho, aware of my reluctance to engage in heavy drinking, cautioned me not to consume too much, given my tendency to become unresponsive when intoxicated. These gatherings, where people persistently offer me drinks, are something I genuinely dislike.

As the evening wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this dinner party would be different. That premonition intensified when Mr. Park took a seat in front of me.

“Have a drink, Se-yeon,” Mr. Park insisted, continuously refilling my glass with every request. My alcohol tolerance was low, and even with just half a glass each time, my face quickly reddened.

My gaze shifted to the person sitting at the head table. He was engrossed in a conversation with Sooyin, laughing and sharing moments. I observed them silently while downing another drink. The sweet taste lingered on my lips.

Mr. Park gestured to my empty glass, prompting me to meet his gaze as he awaited my response.

“I, uh, I’m done,” I stammered. I really didn’t want to drink any more, and I considered finding an opportunity to slip away. However, Mr. Park continued to pour drinks and engage in conversation, making it hard for me to escape.

“Oh, just one more drink,” he insisted.

“No. I can’t drink,” I replied loudly, refusing his offer multiple times. A hushed silence seemed to fall over the atmosphere.

“Just drink it. What are you missing?” Mr. Park’s persistence was clear.

I remained silent for a moment. “It’s not funny,” I finally said, trying to convey my seriousness.

I blush at the sound of Ms. Kim’s voice, sitting next to me.    

Ms. Kim’s remark made all eyes in the room turn towards us. She continued with a challenging tone, “Would you drink if I paid you?”

“…….”

Reluctantly, I raised my drink in response to Ms. Kim’s insistent words and her wallet coming out of her bag, and her dry gaze remained fixed on my face.

I took a sip of my drink, feeling a bit pressured by the unusual situation, but Mr. Park refrained from offering me more drinks.

She mentioned needing to use the restroom, and no one seemed to question it. As she stood up, she briefly glanced at him, and their eyes met briefly. He looked at her with an uncertain expression and then shifted his gaze back to Sooyin. The noise from the inebriated voices was growing louder.

The noise was becoming unbearable, and she felt like an outsider in the midst of the party. She decided to leave the room and called Miho to come pick her up. As she stood at a distance from the party, she began to feel the warmth from the alcohol. When she tried to remove her cardigan, she suddenly noticed the scent of cigarettes nearby and turned her head to investigate. 

“…….”

As I approached, he was standing beside me, casually smoking a cigarette. I couldn’t believe the sight of the cigarette held between his long fingers. I was well aware of how much I despised the smell of cigarettes.

He looked directly into my eyes and exhaled a puff of smoke. The way the white smoke dissipated into the sky seemed surreal. I had never expected to see him smoking a cigarette, but his presence in that well-fitted black suit felt oddly familiar, and I instinctively moved a step to the side.

Each time he raised the cigarette to his lips, the gleam of a metal watch on his wrist caught my eye. As he continued to smoke and fix his gaze upon me, I couldn’t help but feel as though he suspected I was doing it deliberately. I swallowed nervously, my throat feeling parched.

I couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. My head hung low, avoiding his gaze and the stark transformation he had undergone. The man before me was no longer the same.