🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 14
“……”
What landed in her hand was a box of bandages and some ointment.
“Take care of yourself. You’re not here to get hurt on the program.”
The wound… really wasn’t a big deal. Ointment wasn’t even necessary. The bleeding had already stopped; at worst, a faint red line might show when she washed her hands.
Still, outright refusing would have felt awkward.
She didn’t know why he was giving it to her, but right now, it felt like genuine concern.
“Thank you. I’ll be more careful. My finger… it just got scraped so suddenly…”
And then a thought struck her.
Wait. If he saw my finger bleeding that badly, doesn’t that mean… he didn’t just leave after watching the mission? He stayed the whole time?
Back then, she hadn’t even realized her hand was covered in blood. She’d been too absorbed in the thrill of succeeding.
“Uh, excuse me—can we get some bandages over here?”
She hadn’t even grasped what was happening until someone said that.
The mission had already been filmed in full, so she managed to patch up and finish without issue—but apparently, he’d seen everything.
Harin couldn’t suppress her curiosity.
“Why did you stay and watch me for so long? You could’ve just gone home. Tomorrow’s Monday, after all.”
“You said it was fine if I watched. So I stayed. I was curious how you were doing.”
“……”
He really was like a robot.
She hadn’t been asking what he did; she wanted to know why. Yet he gave her a plain, literal explanation.
Strange man…
But fine. Honestly, if the roles were reversed, she would’ve watched too, just out of curiosity.
To be fair, I still want to know how some people got their ingredients. Like that French Pie—what kind of mission fail leads to that?
She tried again.
“Are you heading out now?”
“I should. I only waited to give you that.”
“…Ah, I see.”
Oddly, that pricked at her.
She hadn’t asked him to wait. She hadn’t even known he was waiting. But knowing he had, she almost regretted not leaving the green room sooner instead of wasting time chatting.
Not that this anchor isn’t still as annoying as ever.
“Drive safe. You worked hard today. And… thanks, really, for giving me this.”
“Good work.”
He left it at that, as simple as always.
The black sedan shot out of the parking lot with the same sharp efficiency he always seemed to carry.
But still, the fact he worried enough to give me this…
Maybe, just maybe. The tiniest bit—just this much.
He might actually be a decent person.
Lingering on that thought, Harin finally moved toward her car. She stuffed the ointment and bandages into her bag instead of just tossing them onto the seat.
It was still early evening.
Done earlier than I thought…
Which meant <Serenade> café would still be open.
Maybe I’ll swing by and see Minjoo.
She set her destination.
But when she arrived nearby and glanced toward the familiar storefront, her eyes narrowed.
“…What?”
The chalkboard sign that should’ve been standing outside <Serenade> was missing.
Did it blow away? No—that makes no sense.
The biting arctic winds had finally receded. There was no way it had been blown off now.
“…Wait. Did she not open today?”
Looking closer, it wasn’t just the missing sign. The inside looked darker than the neighboring shops—completely unlit.
Alarm rising, Harin parked hastily and hurried to the door. A paper notice was taped inside the glass.
Due to extreme emotional distress, I’m taking a day off… I sincerely apologize to all the customers who came by.
* * *
“Minjoo, are you inside?”
Harin knocked on the door to Minjoo’s apartment. She’d already tried calling several times; every call went unanswered.
She never mentioned anything when we talked just the other day.
Owning a shop wasn’t like people imagined. The dream of taking breaks whenever you wanted shattered fast. Minjoo had practically lived at <Serenade> since opening—always there, researching which desserts sold best.
So for her to shut it down with a note like that…?
It wasn’t just the unexpected day off that stunned Harin. It was not knowing why.
They’d been friends since age twelve—seventeen years. Shared more secrets than she could count. She would’ve sworn she knew Minjoo better than anyone.
She’s never done something like this before… unless it’s something so serious she can’t even tell me?
“Minjoo.”
She knocked again.
The upstairs was unoccupied, so calling out wasn’t disruptive. But no matter how many times she tried, there was no response.
Sighing, Harin finally stepped back.
Maybe she went home to her family?
If she’d written “extreme emotional distress,” this wasn’t trivial. It could be the kind of problem you only share with family.
“Guess I’ll just leave a message—”
Beep!
“……!”
Just as she turned toward her car, defeated, the door creaked open.
“…Kang Minjoo?”
“…Yeah. I’m here. Sorry.”
Harin rushed back.
Under the motion-sensor light stood Minjoo, wrapped in a blanket like a child.
So that’s why the house looked so dark.
Inside, not a single light had been switched on.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No, I just… I was so exhausted. I honestly couldn’t make it to the shop.”
“……”
“You know I don’t even have staff yet. So… I just took the day off.”
“Don’t lie. You’ve been crying.”
“……”
“Move. Let me in.”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Between us?”
Her voice was hoarse, cracked from sobbing. Harin knew the signs. Minjoo didn’t cry easily, but when she did, it was hard—gut-deep sobbing until her voice broke.
Harin pushed inside and flipped on the living room light. The room brightened instantly, making Minjoo wince.
“…What’s this? Did you go shopping?”
Piled by the sofa were shopping bags.
Minjoo’s reply was rough, her throat still strained.
“I didn’t buy those. They’re all gifts.”
“Gifts? From who…?”
It didn’t look like the thoughtful kind of gifts someone picked out knowing her tastes. More like someone had swept through a department store saying ‘one of everything, please’.
Various brands, no consistency.
“…He gave them to me.”
“…Who? Your guardian angel?”
“I told you not to call him that!”
“Sorry, sorry. I mean—it’s not a bad nickname, though. Why not?”
Harin scrambled to ease her.
The “guardian angel” was that guy—the older man Minjoo had been quietly in love with for years.
She refused to reveal his name, saying Harin wouldn’t know him anyway. But some nickname was needed, and back in elementary school, Minjoo had dubbed him her guardian angel.
By middle school she’d abandoned the childish nickname, embarrassed, and reverted to the vague that guy. But Harin still liked the old one. It was cute, and easy to remember.
…But that aside.
“He gave you all this?”
“Yeah. Said he thought of me. Even delivered them himself today.”
Whoever he was, he clearly had money. This haul wasn’t cheap.
Though clearly, after all these years, he still doesn’t know what Minjoo actually likes…
Because every single bag held accessories. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings—things Minjoo hated wearing. Too fussy, too uncomfortable, and impractical for someone who baked all day.
Ah. So that’s why she cried.
Unrequited love always had that moment of bitter clarity. When you realized how much you gave compared to how little you received. Not that it was his fault. But it still stung.
She’d cried over him before, too.
On her birthday, when he forgot to say happy birthday. Another time, when she mistakenly thought he’d gotten a girlfriend and broke down—only to light up again the second she learned it wasn’t true.
As Harin’s thoughts drifted, Minjoo cleared her throat again and spoke.
“Do you know what he said to me?”
“Hm?”
“He said… ‘I want to give these to the person I like. So try them all on and tell me which one looks the prettiest.’”
“…What?”
Harin’s jaw fell open.
