There Are No Friends Between Men and Women

Alright. Next week's trip to Jeju Island was settled. The goal: a healing vacation for Dr. Baek Ah-rin. She had probably never been on a proper trip in her life. I, on the other hand, had been able to travel plenty with my daughter thanks to her. Jeju Island was a particular favorite of Min-ah's, so we'd gone often — which meant I knew the island well.

"Then shall I book the flights and the hotel?"

First I needed a rough itinerary. Only then could I decide where to stay.

"She'd said she wanted to see Seogwipo."

The spot she'd specifically pointed out was the southern part of the island. That meant we wouldn't be circling all of Jeju — we'd use Seogwipo as a base and wander from there, taking the trip at our own pace. The Seogwipo area had no shortage of resorts.

"Well, well. A newly built one?"

A five-star resort had opened ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just a few months ago. According to the write-up, it sat right on the water. And on the rooftop of the building beside the white sand beach, there was even an infinity pool that seemed to pour straight into the horizon.

Most resorts were developed along the coast. It was February now — swimming in the ocean was out of the question. But the resort had a pool. The newer the place, the more cleverly they designed it, so that floating there felt almost like swimming in the sea itself.

I still couldn't forget my daughter's face the first time she saw that infinity pool, laid out flush against the ocean's horizon. Min-ah had stared, transfixed by the breathtaking view, before a gasp of wonder finally escaped her — as if she'd forgotten, for a moment, how to speak at all.

I wanted Dr. Baek Ah-rin to feel that same awe my daughter had.

"Alright... two ocean-view rooms... booked!"

Two rooms, of course. A single room would have been cheaper, obviously. But two fully grown adults — a man and a woman — couldn't share a room.

Dr. Baek Ah-rin and I had an employer-employee relationship. Before that, we were senior and junior from the same school. Nothing more, nothing less.

I had, unavoidably, seen her naked once — but that was only because she'd gotten drunk and thrown up. What was I supposed to do, leave her in vomit-soaked clothes?

She was beautiful, though...

For a moment, Dr. Baek's naked body flashed through my mind.

...

"You sick bastard... what the hell are you thinking?"

I cursed myself. What kind of thoughts was I having about my junior's body?

Dr. Baek Ah-rin had come to me purely for help. She was exhausted from trying to claw her way out of the swamp her life had become. She'd asked me to comfort her. And here I was, thinking about that junior's body. What kind of bastard does that?

There couldn't be even the slightest misunderstanding. I was the hospital director. She was a pay doctor at my hospital. A power imbalance existed between us. That demanded caution.

A man-woman relationship. An employer-employee relationship. If even a sliver of misunderstanding took root in either, our relationship would spiral into catastrophe.

I had too much to lose. I absolutely could not afford any trouble. My daughter was an adult now, but I still needed to support her until she graduated college, found a job, and met a good husband. And for that, I had to stay by her side. With money, too!

Dr. Baek Ah-rin. My junior. That tomboyish way of speaking. That easygoing personality. We'd known each other for decades. She and I were far too comfortable with each other. In a way, we were closer than I'd ever been with my wife after we got married.

I'd already seen her naked while washing her. No — had I only seen? I'd touched her, too.

Relationships between men and women required caution. Too many things were tangled up in them. And of all those things, what a man had to watch most carefully was the matter of sex.

They say there are no friends between men and women. Biologically, it can't be any other way. Men are drawn to women; women, to men. The last stop on that line is sex — a trick of the instinct that wants children.

Let me correct myself. A simple friendship between a man and a woman is possible. But you have to draw a very hard line. Especially if you're already married. I know how difficult that line is to keep. That's why people have affairs.

That's how my ex-wife left me. She used me as a wallet, offering up her body and my money to some taut young bastard. The person who ruined my life. I couldn't turn around and do the same thing that human being did.

Then again... I was divorced, so technically it wouldn't even be a problem. But the reason I'd given up on dating anyone else — on remarrying — was my daughter.

There was a time I'd considered it. It had struck me, when my daughter was about to start middle school, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that she needed a mother.

My ex-wife had hated our daughter. But my daughter had hated her right back.

Min-ah, who had never sworn a day in her life, used her first curse on the woman who'd given birth to her.

I'd only said it because I was worried Min-ah might be emotionally unstable, growing up with just a father. Even after a divorce, you couldn't stop a child from seeing her parents — and if my daughter wanted to see her mother, I wanted to make that happen. What I got back instead was a fierce, burning hostility toward her own mother.

I should have scolded her — a brand-new middle schooler — for using language like that. But I couldn't. Because I thought of my ex-wife as a fucking bitch too.

Fuck. In our language, a word for the sexual act that had been twisted into a curse. Yeah. That bitch was a whore. Not with me — with that empty-headed gym trainer bastard and his young body.

But I was worried. Middle school. The age when every feeling cuts too deep. Puberty. Eighth-grade syndrome. All of it began to weigh on me.

So I started looking for a new mother who could hold my daughter close.

After searching for a long time, just as I was about to give up, I met a woman who carried the same kind of pain I did. She was elegant, refined. I thought she could raise my daughter well — the right way.

I'd found a good person, but it couldn't go anywhere. Her family situation got in the way. Specifically, the relationship between her and her own daughter.

From where I stood, her daughter's behavior had gone too far. But I couldn't interfere. She was fighting so hard to protect that girl. As a father raising a daughter myself, I understood how she felt.

Still, the thought that the girl might actually hurt her drove me to call several times, even visit her office. But she refused to see me.

That was that. Whatever was going on between her and her daughter, only they would ever know. Nothing is more off-limits to a third party than family history. She rejected me. She shut out the man who was trying to criticize her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠daughter. To her, I was an outsider.

I truly regretted it. In that short time, I'd developed feelings for her too. That's why the next few months were so hard. After that day, I gave up on remarrying. It had hurt too much. And besides, my daughter was growing up just fine without a mother.

So I gave up on remarrying.

Once my daughter started high school, she suddenly began telling me, over and over, that I must never remarry. I'd already given up on the idea a long time before that.

I had to reassure her for a long while before her face finally relaxed. She'd even asked me about it recently, at the amusement park.

That's right. My daughter didn't want me to remarry. It was what the daughter I loved wanted. I'd considered remarrying for her sake. But if she didn't want it, there was no reason to.

My daughter said that if I dated another woman, it would be an affair. In that case, even if it wasn't legally adultery, it was still an affair.

Anyway, that was why the two of us couldn't share a room. Unless we were a couple, unless we were married, it was only natural. And... though it would never happen, it was also a way of preventing any possible accident before it could occur.

Click. Click.

"Oh... that's cheap."

Jeju Island was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠definitely in its off-season in winter, so resort prices were low. Even though it was the southern region, the winter wind on Jeju was ferocious. They say Jeju is a place of water, wind, and women, don't they? Anyway, being able to shave even a little (?) off the travel budget put me in a good mood.

"Alright... two ocean-view rooms... booked!"

A full package, including dinner and infinity pool access.

"This should be enough to make her happy, right?"

The flight was Wednesday morning. I booked with the country's top airline. Budget carriers were cheaper, sure, but the seats were somehow even narrower, and the pilots weren't as skilled, so I'd stopped using them. On top of that, you always got assigned a gate at the far end of the terminal.

It was a decision I'd made after my daughter had clung to me on a flight back from Jeju — after one particularly rough landing.

I reserved a foreign sedan with a smooth ride for the rental car. Everything I'd booked was top-of-the-line. I wanted to show Dr. Baek a new world — a woman who had spent her entire life suffering in the barless prison her own father had built.

"I should pack a swimsuit and some clothes, too."

I pulled the carry-on suitcase out of the closet and started packing clothes for the trip, emergency medicine, and a swimsuit.