For Jeong-o Lee, Eunbi Chae is a memory she can never forget, no matter how hard she tries.
Jeong-o and Eunbi were in the same class during their first year of high school.
In the first semester, Jeong-o was an ordinary student who got along well with everyone. Eunbi, however, was quite popular. She was always surrounded by friends, and laughter never seemed to cease around her.
Everything about Eunbi was a topic of conversation. The clothes she wore, her bags, her shoes, the cosmetics she carried, even her stationery—everything was a luxury brand. If a friend showed interest, she would occasionally give those items away as gifts.
All the friends in Eunbi’s orbit possessed at least one thing she had used.
Word circulated that Eunbi’s family were legal professionals. Moreover, since her mother was the head of the Parent-Teacher Association, teachers would often inquire about her parents’ well-being.
She was brilliant in many ways, but that didn’t mean Jeong-o envied her. Jeong-o was a student who knew how to be grateful for what she had.
In any case, the two got along well. There were no problems at all during the first semester. Or perhaps, Jeong-o thinks, there might have been something she didn’t remember. But whatever that problem was, it never threatened her school life.
Around the time the midterm exams for the second semester ended, Eunbi approached Jeong-o in a friendly manner.
“Jeong-o, do you want this? I’ve never used it.”
What Eunbi held out was a lip gloss. The brand logo, shaped like two overlapping horseshoes, hinted at the price. It must have been more expensive than Jeong-o’s shoes and bag combined.
A fleeting thought crossed her mind—to just touch it once—but Jeong-o shook her head immediately.
“No. It’s okay.”
“It would be nice to have.”
“No. I don’t wear makeup. It’s really okay.”
Jeong-o had no way of knowing why Eunbi was offering such a gift. A gift without a reason felt even more burdensome.
Although Jeong-o refused repeatedly, Eunbi offered it once more.
“You have a pretty face, so you’d be even prettier if you wore makeup. And this is a luxury item.”
“I really don’t need it, Eunbi.”
In the empty classroom, Jeong-o carefully expressed her gratitude, fearing that her quiet voice might be taken the wrong way.
“Thank you for thinking of me. I’m sorry.”
Did that polite refusal bruise Eunbi’s ego? Her lips seemed to twist slightly.
After that conversation, Eunbi never spoke to Jeong-o again.
Thereafter, Jeong-o felt the gazes of her classmates change.
Could you call it subtle bullying? Friends who used to greet her brightly stopped smiling, and conversations would abruptly end whenever Jeong-o walked by. Friends close to Eunbi would even openly ignore her.
Even at lunchtime, Jeong-o was alone. Being alone didn’t make her feel particularly miserable, though. Lunch and dinner were Jeong-o’s favorite hours. Along with the delicious food, the person Jeong-o loved most in the world was waiting for her in the cafeteria.
Jeong-o’s mother, Guksun Lee.
Guksun had started working at the school that summer; her company had taken over the meal service. For Guksun, those shifts must have been the most rewarding times of her day.
Jeong-o was a lovely daughter who took pride in her mother working in the cafeteria. Although Guksun tried to pretend they didn’t know each other to avoid causing trouble, Jeong-o didn’t go out of her way to hide it.
“Thank you for the meal, Mom.”
After the greeting, the word “Mom” spoken in a low voice made Guksun’s lips curl upward. The two were deeply affectionate. That was why they couldn’t easily fall into misery.
Then one day, a sudden incident occurred.
At lunchtime, just as Jeong-o arrived at the cafeteria, shouting echoed through the room. She turned toward the noise.
The protagonist was none other than Eunbi Chae. The person standing opposite her was Jeong-o’s mother, Guksun.
“Ma’am, how can you stick your hand into the soup bowl? It’s unsanitary.”
It seemed Guksun had made a mistake while scooping soup. She was at a loss and tried to take Eunbi’s bowl back.
“I’m sorry, student. I didn’t mean to…”
“Aaah!”
Just then, Eunbi threw her tray down in a dramatic fashion and collapsed to the side.
*Clatter. Crash.*
The food splashed everywhere, ruining the serving station and Eunbi’s school uniform.
“What’s going on!”
The nutritionist ran over. Eunbi’s friend helped her up and shouted fiercely, “This lady stuck her finger in Eunbi’s soup, and when we complained, she pushed her!”
“No, student, that’s a misunderstanding.”
“Apologize.”
Guksun, feeling wronged, tried to protest, but Eunbi drowned her out. The cafeteria turned cold and silent.
“You shouldn’t act like that as an adult. If you’re an adult, apologize like an adult.”
At Eunbi’s composed demand, Jeong-o clenched her fists and rushed toward them.
Recognizing her, Guksun bowed her head immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
Then, she waved her hand so no one else would see. *Don’t come here.*
It was a signal. Jeong-o couldn’t get any closer and stood rooted to the spot, watching her mother. Her hands, hanging at her sides, were trembling violently.
Eunbi was also trembling.
“Since you apologized, take responsibility.”
With that wounded expression, her firm words sent a chill through the cafeteria once again.
“How are you going to take responsibility?”
At Eunbi’s interrogation, Guksun bowed her head, unable to do anything. Jeong-o wanted to grab her mother’s hand and leave, but she, too, was paralyzed. The knuckles of her tightly clenched hands turned deathly white.
Because of that incident, Guksun faced all sorts of interrogations. In addition to the affair with Eunbi, she was falsely accused of not washing her hands, mismanaging utensils, and other charges, eventually forcing her to quit.
It was the best choice to ensure the arrow wouldn’t turn toward her daughter.
However, even after Guksun left, Jeong-o had to fight against rumors.
“I heard her mom worked in our school cafeteria? They said she made the side dishes taste bad on purpose so the kids would leave a lot, then packed it all up to take home. To feed her daughter.”
“What? She’s a school cafeteria beggar?”
It wasn’t true. Guksun had simply learned the secrets of good recipes from the nutritionist and took home the leftovers. That was all.
The only person who knew the truth was Eunbi Chae. Unable to hold it in anymore, Jeong-o asked her.
“Eunbi, you aren’t spreading strange rumors about me, are you?”
“What are you talking about? What strange rumors?”
“When the audit team came to my mom’s company, you heard everything the auditors said.”
“Wh-what are you talking about? Why are you blaming an innocent person?”
As Eunbi raised her voice, other kids came running over.
“Eunbi, what’s wrong?”
Eunbi leaned against a friend, as if she were about to collapse. The friend glared at Jeong-o.
Eunbi said to Jeong-o in a trembling voice, “You might want to make it look like I was the reason your mother quit, but you shouldn’t do that. Jeong-o Lee. How can the perpetrator act like that to the victim?”
Jeong-o couldn’t say anything more. If she added another word, it was certain she would be cornered further. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away.
She just had to endure. If she collapsed, an even bigger nail would be driven into her mother’s heart.
Like that, a label became attached to Jeong-o’s high school life. Despite all her efforts, that label followed her for a long time.
***
“First year? What have you been doing?”
“…”
“I’m a manager.”
How should she answer this question? She took a leave of absence from university and gave birth to her child. I started my corporate life as a new hire just as my peers were getting promoted after landing their first jobs.
I had my own reasons, but I didn’t particularly want to share that story with Eun-Bi.
“Ah. So you’re a section chief.”
As I nodded, Eun-Bi’s brow furrowed, appearing displeased.
“Yes. So please use honorifics at work. You know at least that much, right?”
I swallowed a bitter sigh.
“See you later, then. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
Eun-Bi didn’t wait for my response before turning around. Her footsteps sounded lighter than when she had arrived.
I lamented my situation.
‘First Ji-Heon Jeong, and now Eun-Bi Chae.’
I had run into two people from my checkered past at the same company. Ji-Heon was the head of my division, and Eun-Bi was in the team next to ours. Running away from one meant running into the other—it was a dilemma. Was this the hell they called a workplace?
‘I need to quit this company soon. I need to find another job.’
I was sitting at my desk when my phone vibrated. A text from HR.
– Assistant Manager Jeong-o Lee, please come to the HR team to sign your salary contract.
Even if I was going to quit, I had to check the salary. It was part of my job change conditions, but I was curious if the terms had shifted now that the company had changed.
I went straight to the HR team. A male employee with a kind face greeted me.
“Hello. Assistant Manager Jeong-o Lee. I’m Seung-gyu Park from the HR team.”
“Hello.”
“I’m not sure if you heard, but your salary has changed slightly.”
“Changed?”
I asked sharply. If they had cut my salary, I couldn’t possibly stay here. I wouldn’t budge from the previously negotiated amount.
“It’s been adjusted upward. The existing terms have been updated to include this year’s salary increase.”
“Oh.”
“Is that okay?”
“Yes, more than okay. Should I sign here?”
After confirming the salary, I rejoiced inwardly. It was three million won higher than expected. When your pockets are full, your heart feels generous, too.
‘This company, it might be worth staying at? The location isn’t bad, either.’
Three million won was all it took for my resolve to soften.
“And please fill out your personal information as well.”
Seung-gyu handed me another document. It required my address, contact info, education, and marital status. Surprisingly, there was no field for family relationships.
“Excuse me, but here…”
“Yes? Is there a problem?”
“Ah, no. It’s nothing.”
I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to disclose my family status. If Ji-Heon Jeong didn’t know about Ye-Na yet, I wanted to keep it that way.
Perhaps he already knew and was just pretending not to. I wondered if his words yesterday were a warning to stay quiet and not cause a scene.
To lead a smooth professional life, it would be best to keep a low profile. I filled out the form without hesitation. For marital status, I checked ‘Single.’ I had never been married, so I wasn’t lying.
*
The morning flew by. Just as lunch was approaching, Mi-Ran called me over urgently.
“Assistant Manager Jeong-o Lee.”
“Yes?”
“Just a second.”
Mi-Ran led me to a more secluded spot. What could she want? Did Ji-Heon tell her about my past? Did she find out I’m a single mother? Did Eun-Bi say something? I had so many guilty consciences I just swallowed hard.
“Do you like jajangmyeon by any chance?”
Huh?
“Jajangmyeon, I mean.”
It was an unexpected question. Jajangmyeon—a dish I had never once disliked.
“Yes, I like it.”
“That’s good.”
Mi-Ran’s face brightened. She showed me her phone screen—a map of the neighborhood.
“This is a great place. All our team members love it, but if you don’t reserve a table by 11:50, you have to wait forty minutes.”
“…….”
“Go out secretly at 11:40 and grab a table for five.”
That was the mission. The most important thing for an office worker: securing lunch.
“I usually make Gihun Song do it, but the owner gives extra perks whenever they see a new face. Don’t tell anyone else. We have to keep it to ourselves.”
For some reason, I think I’m going to love this team! Could I really quit? My resolve wavered.
“Yes. I understand.”
I answered with eyes shining, like a general preparing for battle.
Ten minutes later, I stood up for my mission. The elevator was stuck, and I tapped my foot anxiously. Then, I heard a commotion near the elevator.
I couldn’t get caught. I hid behind a large potted plant.
A group of children approached, all Ye-Na’s age—six or seven. And accompanying them was Ji-Heon Jeong.
My heart skipped a beat. I remembered a notice that children from a nearby orphanage would be attending a lecture. I didn’t expect Ji-Heon to participate himself. His eyes as he watched the children seemed quite affectionate.
‘Listen here, Ji-Heon Jeong. You have a beautiful daughter of your own, you know.’
It was a moment where I felt like screaming that out loud.
“Thank you so much for today. I think it was a very meaningful time.”
“I was happy to have you. I hope it was a good experience.”
Ji-Heon replied politely.
“And this.”
The instructor held out a heavy paper bag.
“It’s not much, but we baked cookies. The children made them all day. They picked out only the prettiest shapes. Please enjoy them with your staff.”
“Thank you. We will.”
“There’s also a card inside written by the children.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Ji-Heon accepted the gift and bowed. The children left on the elevator.
I waited for Ji-Heon to leave first. However, he didn’t leave immediately. Suddenly, he walked over to the trash can and dropped the bag, paper and all, into the bin.
*Gasp!*
“Don’t!”
I burst from behind the plant and grabbed Ji-Heon’s arm. But the bin had already swallowed the bag.
Ji-Heon, who had thrown away the gift without a second of hesitation, flinched. A faint, resentful tremor spilled from my lips.
“How could you throw that away?”
They said the children made them themselves, that they spent all day on them, and that there was a card inside. They didn’t give it to you to eat alone; they said to share it with the staff.
The Ji-Heon Jeong of the past was the kind of person who cherished even a single mandarin orange I had tucked into his pocket. Was even that an act? Was that the kind of person you really were?
The man I once loved, the father of my child. It turned out he was just a piece of junk, flashy on the outside.
I glared at him. If I could, I would’ve liked to hit him on the head.
However, that moment of charge was blocked. The gaze that had been wavering as he stared at her sharpened instantly. It was an easy feat for Ji-Heon to twist his hand out of her grip.
As his hand slid downward, it brushed against Jeong-o’s hand, enveloping it. The movement was surprisingly gentle, contrasting with their sharp confrontation. It felt as if he were trying to share his own burning body heat with her.
By the time she felt confused by that warmth, her wrist was already held firmly in his grasp. Jeong-o felt flustered.
Her voice caught in her throat.
“What is this…!”