IT - 8

8. “Cruel Kindness”

“But, Executive Director, tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“Then apply for weekend work and come in. It wouldn’t be fair for me to work alone.”

Such trivial complaints or demands were easy enough to accept. With the deal sealed, the two clinked their glasses together with a cheerful clang.

“Alright. In return, I’ll treat you to a delicious lunch tomorrow.”

“Is that because I’m your superior and the one responsible?”

He seemed to be feeling the effects of the alcohol. Ji-soo tried hard to steady her fluttering heart, but against her will, an unexpected remark slipped out.

“It’s because we’re meal buddies. If we eat together more than three times, we’re friends in my book.”

The word “friends” softened his sharp gaze. From being someone she admired from afar, to a superior sharing the same space, and now to a friend sharing meals—his expression warmed.

“You’re more sociable than you look.”

Would it have been better if she had remained guarded? Her friendly demeanor irked him. As he thought about her rule of friendship, his mind inevitably drifted back to her relationships with other men.

In life, there are things you know you shouldn’t do but stubbornly insist on anyway: not looking back, not opening something, not asking certain questions.

“So, where does that put me? Which number am I?”

Tae-ha regretted the petty question as soon as it left his lips. Imagining the faces of the countless men who had brushed past Ji-soo only fueled his irritation. He couldn’t understand why her words bothered him so much.

“Always number one, front row. Don’t forget I’m just a salaried worker.”

Though her answer was casual, implying she considered him one of the many “number ones,” her teasing charm somehow made him feel worse.

---

The next morning, Ji-soo woke up early—or rather, after tossing and turning all night, she had barely closed her eyes before dawn broke.

While brushing her teeth, her mouth full of white foam, she suddenly burst into laughter, drooling a little. Even wiping her lips didn’t dampen her cheer. What could make a Saturday workday feel this good?

She opened her wardrobe, which held only a few outfits. A person who rarely ventured outside beyond work and home, Ji-soo hadn’t felt the need for many clothes. Occasionally, she bought expensive skirts or blouses on sale, alternating them cleverly to create the illusion of variety.

Today, however, her outfit choice weighed heavily on her mind, even though she wouldn’t be spending the entire day glued to Tae-ha.

“If only I’d bought some decent clothes ahead of time.”

Muttering her regret, Ji-soo rummaged through her closet and pulled out a thin, pale pink dress. Its flowing fabric revealed her slender figure entirely.

She padded herself with functional undergarments and slipped into the dress. To accentuate her long, white neck, she unbuttoned one more button at the collar.

It was a daring dress for a regular workday, but since today was Saturday, it gave her courage. She felt like a girlfriend preparing for a date with Tae-ha—even if it was just for lunch.

“A pretty, pale-faced girlfriend.”

The voice of Tae-ha’s friend intruded on her excitement.

She had almost forgotten—the woman who received Tae-ha’s gift. No, honestly, she had been pushing the thought aside like a thorn under her fingernail since yesterday. Half of her sleepless night was due to the fluttering anticipation of their meeting, and the other half to the image of the woman who had received his present.

A woman who contributed to maximizing business gains and efficiency versus one who brought nothing but emotional loss.

Ji-soo swiftly and astutely assessed her situation. Though the woman in the mirror smiled in her most dazzling attire, the mismatched outfit felt uncomfortable.

With a sigh, Ji-soo changed out of the dress and into jeans and a t-shirt. She tied her still-damp hair into a tight ponytail and stepped out of the house.

As she exited the alley, a sleek black sedan stood out starkly against the narrow, run-down neighborhood. Before she could even think about its owner, the driver’s door opened, and Tae-ha stepped out.

This was cruel kindness. The mere sight of him stirred her heart; having him so close made it harder to let go of her unrequited love. Rational thoughts fled, leaving only raw instinct rushing toward him.

“Did you sleep well?”

Seeing Tae-ha in casual attire instead of a suit made her feel as if she’d traveled back to college days. Ten years ago and now—he hadn’t changed. Only her feelings had swelled.

“How did you know where I live?”

“We kissed right here last time I dropped you off. Thanks to this extraordinary memory of mine.”

Exchanging pleasantries about sleep in broad daylight wasn’t exactly appropriate, nor was his blunt response. Ji-soo’s face flushed, and her mouth hung open in shock.

“Maybe it’s time to close your mouth unless you plan to kiss me again. Bringing that up is painful for both of us.”

Tae-ha, hands stuffed in his pockets, looked thoroughly amused. The stiffer Ji-soo became, the deeper his smile grew.

Feeling as though she’d been slapped twice by his suggestive words, Ji-soo walked toward the car in a daze. Tae-ha followed shortly and opened the door for her. Once seated, he didn’t start the engine but gazed intently at her.

“Why?”

The fresh scent of shampoo wafted from her damp hair, filling his senses. He scrutinized every detail: her rosy cheeks, her luscious red lips that seemed ready to spill moisture.

“Since you didn’t expect me to pick you up, I assume you rushed out without drying your hair. Or is this your way of saying you don’t care about making a good impression on me?”

The attempt to hide her pounding heart had been gently prodded, then ruthlessly unraveled by him, leaving her feelings exposed.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Ji-soo deliberately avoided his gaze and stared straight ahead as she answered. Tae-ha leaned closer and tugged sharply on the hair tie binding her ponytail.

Before Ji-soo could react in surprise, Tae-ha snatched the hair tie and tossed it behind him with swift precision.

As he drew nearer, the scent that had once seemed distinct now blurred into something indistinct—was it floral, fruity, or perhaps just her natural fragrance? The sweet aroma clouded his senses, and his body instinctively heated up.

“If you sit there with your damp hair, I can’t help but remember you begging for a kiss on that rainy day.”

Flustered, Ji-soo turned to look at him. Why did he keep bringing this up?

“Are you reenacting that day? Same place, same setting, same person?”

“Can’t we stop talking about that? I already apologized—it was a mistake.”

“A mistake that makes me look forward to the next one. You should make those kinds of mistakes more often.”

Though she’d never heard of anyone fainting from embarrassment, Ji-soo felt she might become the first such case.

“How long do you plan to keep talking about this?”

“It depends on how you behave.”

Ji-soo slowly touched her burning cheeks. Her heart still raced—whether from his teasing or because she was riding in his car on the way to work, she couldn’t tell.

---

Tae-ha remained busy, and Ji-soo continued her unrequited love. The only difference from a month ago was that they occasionally met for meals or spent time together when Tae-ha unexpectedly dropped by on weekend mornings. Without either of them realizing it, their weekly meetings gradually increased in frequency.

Even when Tae-ha went on business trips or was away for extended periods, their text exchanges were as frequent as if they were meeting in person.

Under the pretense of treating him to delicious meals, Ji-soo would confide in Tae-ha about work stories and imaginary boyfriend troubles. At first, Tae-ha had listened with a fierce expression, as if ready to devour her words, but over time, he began quietly lending an ear.

The nonexistent men in Ji-soo’s stories were spontaneously created in her mind. She herself struggled to keep track of their ages, professions, and other details, which became tangled in her descriptions. Tae-ha dismissed these inconsistencies as mere “creative diversity.”

Because of this, Ji-soo found comfort in spending time with Tae-ha. She no longer feared being discovered for her one-sided affection. After all, he was someone she could never truly have, so simply sharing moments and creating memories with him brought her happiness.

Each time she deceived the silently attentive Tae-ha, guilt pricked her conscience—but it always faded quickly once she turned away. With the thought that she could indulge just a little longer, their relationship as “meal buddies,” which had begun in spring, carried on into summer.

Late one afternoon, while Ji-soo was having snacks with the production team, she received a text from Tae-ha, who had returned from his overseas trip three days earlier than expected:

[Buy ramen.]

The blunt message, reminiscent of its sender, almost made Ji-soo burst into laughter. Meanwhile, her colleagues chattered about workshop plans.

[Today’s the production team dinner. Did your trip go well?]

She couldn’t guess why he had returned early, but the mere fact filled her with excitement.

[Do you really have to attend?]

Though Ji-soo hadn’t been particularly eager to join the dinner, it was a belated celebration for her contract renewal and promotion to team leader. Suppressing her desire to rush to Tae-ha, she reluctantly sent her reply:

[Yes, I’m the guest of honor.]

Afterward, no response came. Though she had anticipated this reaction, a part of her still felt disappointed. She knew such feelings were unwarranted.

There was no possibility of any kind of relationship between them. He merely needed a legitimate excuse to avoid blind dates or social obligations after work and on weekends. To Cha Tae-ha, Han Ji-soo was nothing more than a convenient presence.

Senior and junior classmates, superior and subordinate colleagues, indifferent man and secretly infatuated woman—this defined their ten-year connection.

“Vice President Cha might be transferred to the European branch soon.”

“Oh, you’ve heard that rumor too? Chairman Cha declared war on his secretarial staff, saying he’ll pair him off and send him abroad this year.”

“Ah, if Vice President Cha leaves, what will we even do for fun at work?”

“Haha, you act like you’ve been staring at him all along when you can barely meet his eyes in person!”

Ji-soo smiled bitterly in agreement. Even when she stole glances at him, Tae-ha possessed an uncanny ability to make others feel self-conscious instead.

She absentmindedly fiddled with her silent phone. Should she text him late, saying she’d come anyway? Knowing that the person destined to spend a lifetime with Tae-ha would soon appear, here she was, fretting over mere messages.