Being heartbroken wasn't new to me, but no matter how many times my heart broke, it still ached just as much. I didn't know how to face Alex or my office colleagues, so I decided to take one more day off. I didn't inform anyone—just decided to stay in my dorm.
I didn't have the energy to eat breakfast and spent the entire day lying on my bed. My phone rang; it was an unknown number. I ignored it, but the same number kept calling repeatedly. Finally, I answered, whispering, "Who's this?"
"Get out of the dorm. I'm waiting for you outside," Lehan said and hung up.
At first, I couldn't even recognize who he was. It took me two whole minutes to realize. I didn't bother to freshen up. Still in my pajamas, without the energy to put myself together, I went as I was—looking as disheveled and messy as I felt inside. I was sure he'd be shocked when he saw me.
The moment he saw me, he asked, "Why didn't you come to the office today?"
I didn't reply, so he started yelling. "I'm talking to you! Why didn't you come? Yesterday, you left me suddenly, and you didn't show up at the park either!"
I blinked. "The park?" Why was he suddenly talking about that?
Finally, I muttered, "I was feeling really down. I didn't want to meet Alex today, so I didn't go."
He let out a heavy sigh, grabbed my hand, and led me to his car.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked.
"Just sit down," he said firmly.
I got in the car without another word. He drove silently, stopping at the park. He got out, opened my door, and held my hand as he led me to a bench.
We sat there quietly. Thirty minutes passed in complete silence. Neither of us spoke; we just sat there.
After a while, he broke the silence. "Do you feel better now?" he asked softly.
Hearing his words, I already felt a lump in my throat. I was so emotional, but I held back my tears and didn't reply.
He turned to me, his gaze steady, and asked again, "I'm asking you. Do you feel better now?"
I couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears came rushing out, and I started to cry uncontrollably. I didn't care who might be watching or what anyone thought. I just cried.
"Why do I always feel unloved? Why does nobody want me? Why does everyone use me or pity me? Am I really that unlovable?" I shouted through my sobs, letting all my frustration and pain pour out.
Lehan didn't say a word. He just pulled me into a tight hug. He held me as I cried my heart out.
After a few minutes, I realized that Lehan and I were still hugging. The moment it dawned on me, I pulled away slightly, but he pulled me closer again.
I didn't know what was going on in his mind. I just stared at his face, searching for answers. His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, silently asked, Why do you never look at me the way you look at Alex?
I was completely blank. I couldn't say anything—I couldn't even think.
When I tried to move away, he didn't let me. He held me tightly, as if he was afraid to let go.
On the first day when I saw you crying loudly, I'll admit, I felt pity for you. But as the days went by, I started noticing you every day from my car while you sat in the park. Watching you became a habit for me. Whenever I saw you, I felt at peace.
I didn't even need to talk to you—just sitting beside you was enough to bring me calm.
My mom passed away when I was born, and I've never felt loved by my dad. I've always felt lonely… until I saw you. Just seeing you was enough to make my day. These past days have been the best days of my life.
You never judged me, you never pitied me, and you allowed me to be myself. People's words never comforted me the way you did. You didn't have to say anything—you just let me sit there beside you. You healed me without even realizing it.
Seeing you cry hurt me so much. Every time I saw you cry, I wanted to hug you tightly and never let go. I wanted to stay close to you—that's why I arranged your seat near my cabin.
Because of you, I often organized team dinners, even though you always refused to come. I made sure the others kept asking you until you said yes. I wanted to see you, and that's why I invited you to my grandpa's house.
I didn't want you to quit, so I took the time to teach you. I didn't want you to leave me, which is why I never fired you, even when you didn't do the test properly.
I've always watched you, always waited for you to notice me. Why do you never look at me the way you look at Alex?
He never took his eyes off mine, and I couldn't bring myself to look into his. I didn't know what to say to him—I didn't even understand what was really happening. He kept asking, again and again, waiting for an answer.
Finally, I replied, "You're too much for me. I can't even imagine, not even in my wildest dreams, dating a man like you. You should know the difference—you're not in love with me. You feel bad for me.
As you said, you've been lonely for so long that when you saw me, you related to me. You don't love me—you feel pity for me. Don't confuse the two."
After saying that, I turned to leave. I went back to my dorm, feeling utterly frustrated. My mind kept replaying the same thought over and over again: People feel pity for you.
I hate sympathy. I think the worst thing people can do to someone isn't hurting them—it's pitying them. If they can't love someone, why do they feel sorry for them?