3. Product of Misunderstanding (Part 1)
Compared to the environment and rumors surrounding him, Chae Soo-soo had a relatively quiet school life. He may not have been that kind of person to begin with, but he never boasted about coming from a family of lawyers who had held positions in the legal profession since his maternal grandfather. He also never responded to sarcastic remarks about his father being a successful prosecutor because his wife was a good match—he simply remained silent.
Even though we sometimes talked about trivial things and strayed from our usual topics, we never once brought up our families. It was probably the same for Chae Soo-soo, but it was also a topic I didn’t really want to discuss.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop the people around Chae Soo-soo from talking about their families. Sometimes, when I heard people complaining about trivial arguments with their moms, I would curl my toes inside my sneakers in silent frustration. Then, for no apparent reason, Chae Soo-soo would tap my sneakers and start talking about something else. I don’t know why he did that, but I was secretly grateful to him for it.
It’s no exaggeration to say that the absence of my parents completely changed my world. I wonder if I can truly summarize everything with the single word absence, but no other word resonates more deeply. My parents—my mom and dad—no longer exist in my world.
My last memories of my mother are from just before she turned to ashes. She was a hero who saved me and my younger sibling from the flames, even rescuing other neighbors, but she never got the chance to save herself. Why were there so many accidents that day? My father, who had been dispatched to another rescue site, arrived too late. He collapsed like a pile of ashes in front of my mother’s lifeless body.
I don’t know if it’s an appropriate metaphor to say that a firefighter couldn’t cut the fire at his own house, but that’s how one of my neighbors put it. They repeatedly said that a firefighter couldn’t put out the fire in his own home and didn’t even realize his wife was burning.
We quickly adapted to life without Mom. Moving and transferring schools forced us to adjust to new environments. Our family, which had survived by pushing Mom into the fire, lived an outwardly ordinary life.
My father burned twice as brightly as my mother. It was then that I learned how despair seeps into a person and corrodes them from within. My father, who exhausted himself keeping us warm, left this world two years after my mother’s accident. It was an honorable death.
All of this happened when I was in middle school. People used to say I was just a middle schooler, but honestly, my perspective hasn’t changed much since then. Maybe my world stopped moving that day.
Even though my world had stopped, the sun still shone. My father’s death became known to an influential family, and someone, somehow, learned about my younger sibling and me—two orphans—and sponsored our college education through a scholarship foundation. If my father had known, he would have refused their help, thinking he was only doing what he should have done. But I was born with a so-called mutant gene or something, so I accepted their favor as if it were my right, even though I never saw their faces or knew their names.
Sometimes, people tell me—almost like a compliment—that I turned out well despite everything. But I don’t think my sibling and I had an especially rough upbringing. Tragedy wasn’t exclusive to our family, and time simply moved forward, just as deep as the tears we shed.
I can confidently respond to those pitying gazes that assume I grew up without proper love from my parents. My parents gave me all the love they could, without holding back, for half of my life. And now, I am receiving love from my uncle. That’s enough.
Maybe that’s why love feels burdensome to me. Even though love takes different forms, I’ve filled the empty space left by it—this feeling that has become awkward to give or receive—with men. How ironic.
When people confront their own deficiencies, they each develop their own defense mechanisms. Mine was acceptance—not attack, not avoidance, just acceptance.
Even in this absurd situation, with Chae Soo-soo right in front of me, I simply close my eyes and wait for whatever happens next. Maybe it’s because it’s him.
… Did our lips just touch?
I opened one eye, hesitant because I didn’t feel anything special, and Chae Soo-soo bumped his forehead against mine before pulling away. He pressed down on my overlapping hands, clicked open the seatbelt, then patted my dazed cheek and smirked. His expression was so affectionate that I almost misunderstood it.
“Han Yeon-doo.”
“… …”
“Stop provoking someone who’s barely holding back. You’ll be the one who suffers.”
“… …”
“What are you doing? You’re not getting off?”
The word bewildered must have been invented for moments like this. I sat in silence until we got out of the car and entered the office together. Meanwhile, Chae Soo-soo, acting as if nothing had happened, was completely shameless.
What the hell. What’s he so confident about? He definitely tried to kiss me.
No matter how much I touch his body, I never intended to receive a kiss—or any kind of physical affection—in return. Wait. Instead of giving him a reward, wasn’t I the one receiving it? Well, anyway…
So, why a kiss? Why me? When he likes guys? When he even wears a ring around his neck? What exactly is he holding back?
I bit my lip, still tingling from the sudden contact, and glanced at Chae Soo-soo as he explained something next to the whiteboard. When our eyes met, he simply smiled and raised his eyebrows.
“What?”
What is it? I quickly averted my gaze, pretending nothing had happened, and stared at the whiteboard instead. Somehow, his light smile and scent seemed to warm my entire body.
I don’t even remember how the morning meeting passed. Afterward, as I was cleaning up, I found myself absentmindedly erasing an already spotless whiteboard when Senior Joo Jae-hee tapped my elbow.
“Senior Han, what’s wrong? You seem out of it.”
“I just… I just have something on my mind.”
“What are you thinking so hard about? Oh, have you thought about that blind date I mentioned? If you’re interested, let me know. I’ll give you their number.”
“Well, blind dates…”
“Think about it. Oh, and I’ll be heading to the evaluation room with the advisor to run a sample test before lunch. Are you free, Senior Han?”
“Then I’ll just grab lunch separately.”
“Okay. Then, Manager Chae and I will eat together.”
“…What?”
I tried to stop Joo Jae-hee, but she had already left the conference room. Oh no. Lunch with Chae Soo-soo? Just thinking about it made me feel sick. Eating alone would be better.
I glanced outside through the glass window at Chae Soo-soo’s desk, but he was nowhere to be seen—probably in the bathroom. Now was my chance. I hurriedly put down the eraser, grabbed my documents, and opened the conference room door, planning to escape to the cafeteria.
“Oh, damn it—!”
The moment I stepped out, a large shadow blocked my vision. Where did he even come from? I swallowed my startled breath and moved past him toward my desk. But every time I quickened my pace, Chae Soo-soo stuck even closer.
“Are you going on a blind date, Han Yeon-doo?”
“I never said I was.”
How funny. What does it matter to him? He nodded slightly, as if amused by my suspicious look, and idly tapped the partition.
“Should we eat lunch together?”
“…This is the office. Don’t act so familiar.”
“So what? It’s just the two of us now.”
Why is the office always empty at times like this?
“Hurry up and finish whatever you’re doing. Let’s go eat.”
“…I have no lunch plans today. You can eat alone, sir.”
“Since when do you not think about food, Han Yeon-doo?”
“W-What?! And I have work to do. I’m busy.”
“Seems like you’re busy avoiding my eyes.”
“No, I’m not…?”
“Or are you mad?”
Why would I be mad? I placed the documents on my desk and turned around—only to find myself face-to-face with his chest. Seriously, what the hell? Why does he keep getting so close?
I tilted my head back to look up at him, and when our eyes met, his expression was unreadable. I let out a small, exasperated laugh.
“Why would I be mad at you, Manager?”
“I don’t know.”
“There’s nothing to be mad about. I’m not upset or anything….”
“Oh? Then is that why I almost kissed you, but you didn’t react?”
…What?
Is he insane? And in the office, of all places?!
Shocked, I instinctively pushed his chest with my fist.
“That’s not—!”
“No? That’s too bad. If you were actually mad, I would’ve kissed you properly this time.”
Oh my god.
How have I tolerated him all this time without saying anything? He had the nerve to call me a pervert, but it turns out he’s been thinking all kinds of strange things on his own.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Just be honest, Senior Han Yeon-doo.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I thought that’s what you meant when you brought up things like perversion, desire, and instinct.”
There really is no such thing as a completely restrained man.
Oh god, I must be crazy. Did I just hit the button that releases the pervert in him? Does it make sense for someone who was fine yesterday—even this morning—to suddenly go off the rails like this?
“I guess you want to act all proper at work, Senior Han.”
“I’m not pretending. I just choose the right time and place.”
“Oh, so the company parking lot was an appropriate place to kiss?”
“…You didn’t do it, though?”
“Oh? Were you disappointed?”
What’s with him?!
If you think about it, he was the one who approached me first. And now he’s acting like I was the one begging for a kiss.
“Sir, what’s with you all of a sudden?”
“What?”
“No. You shouldn’t be doing this—to a woman, to me.”
“I shouldn’t?”
…No.
When he asks me that with that kind of face, I feel like I can’t say no.
I barely held onto my sanity and squeezed my eyes shut before quickly pointing at the ring on his right hand.
“T-That ring. Doesn’t it belong to someone else?”
His gaze followed mine to the ring on his finger. A faint, bitter smile appeared on his lips.
“It doesn’t.”
“…Did you break up?”
“You could say that.”
…But still, would it really be okay for someone like me—a woman—to do this?
“I’m sorry, but I can’t take this off. It’s important to me.”
“I never told you to take it off.”
“I thought you were concerned.”
“Who? Me? Why would I be?”
“Well, maybe because you’re jealous.”
“I’ve never been—! No, wait….”
Our conversation was getting weird.
Chae Soo-soo tilted his head slightly, idly spinning the ring around his finger, his eyes watching me with quiet amusement—almost as if he was wondering what the real problem was.
“How strange.”
“If anyone hears this, they’ll definitely…”
I craned my neck, scanning the office to check if any employees were nearby. I hadn’t done anything wrong, so I had no idea why I felt the need to be so cautious. The voice that slipped through my dry lips was barely audible.
“…Right.”
“What?”
“I think so.”
“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”
“Oh. I think… we’re having a fling.”
