MERRY 20

I became so full of myself that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. My conscience pricked me slightly for having lured Ethan out through such dishonest means, so I gave my chest a little pat to soothe it. My lies were born purely out of good intentions, so I had every right to feel unashamed. If a stalker could act so high and mighty, why couldn’t I?

“Did it bother you so much that you had to call a colleague to vent? If that’s the case, I guess it might be hard to talk about.”

“…I wonder.”

“It’s too late to play dumb.”

Ethan turned the steering wheel smoothly without responding. His habitual silence didn’t feel quite so obnoxious this time around. If he’s just being shy, then a kind soul like me should be understanding. He ought to be grateful for my exceptional tolerance.

The road toward Chelsea was as peaceful as driving down a quiet country lane. Even though there were enough cars on the road for their headlights to easily push back the darkness, that was just how I felt.

I sat with my arms firmly crossed, putting on the relaxed air of an adult enjoying the silence. While taking in the New York scenery like a tourist, I caught glimpses of the man in the driver’s seat.

If there were a collector of human beings, they would surely have their eye on him. That flawless, beautiful appearance would trigger a sense of ownership, and collectors would likely swarm, ready to pour out fortunes just to have him.

If their competition heated up and the price skyrocketed to the point where he was about to be sold to some wicked person, I would empty my entire fortune, including my trust fund, take out credit loans, and beg my mother on my knees…

I shook my head, imagining myself as a knight gilded in shining gold. By the time I cleared away those useless thoughts, the car had already come to a stop in front of my house.

“Ah, I guess I dozed off with my eyes open for a second.”

I scratched my head while babbling a flimsy excuse. My hair was still damp to the touch. While I wiped the moisture from my hand onto my thigh, Ethan got out of the car first. As he silently gathered the bags, he looked like a seasoned assistant or a chauffeur.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

I hurried out and opened the back door, but I was too late. Only one paper bag—his—remained. Taking the rest of the bags out of the trunk, he handed them to me and spoke.

“New York’s public safety gets terrible late at night. It’s not exactly great during the day either, but regardless.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That even for a sturdy adult male, it isn’t safe to be wandering around in the dark.”

There are plenty of sturdy adult males in the world, but the man Ethan was talking about was clearly limited to me.

“Are you telling me not to stay out late? You said something like that before. Man, you worry too much. About me.”

“I just don’t want to spend the night in the car.”

“Sure, let’s go with that. Intentionally hiding your embarrassment…”

“No.”

Ethan cut me off with a firm tone and pushed up his glasses. Looking me straight in the eye through the transparent lenses, he made a request.

“I’ve said what you wanted to hear, so do one thing for me in return. When you’re finished with your business, just go straight home like a good boy.”

Idiot. You probably think you’re perfect, but you’re wrong. To try and bargain by saying you told me what I wanted to hear… You’re a total dud. That means saying you were displeased because of the relationship between Liam and me wasn’t from the heart, but just something you made up to please me. Did you even think about how disappointed I’d be knowing that?

Ethan Reed is always like this. He gives a hint that a messy, tangled relationship might finally get untangled, only to snatch it away in an instant. Just when a decent atmosphere is finally built, he slips up at the moment of parting and makes a mess of it all over again. I chase after him and finally manage to stand by his side, only for him to push me off a cliff.

The fall was as cruel as the height was great. Even though I knew how futile it was to expect anything from someone you shouldn’t expect anything from, I felt like a fool for almost doing it again. Damn it. You bastard! Just how far do you plan on letting me fall?

The crude trap I’d devised to deceive Ethan had, damnably, attacked me instead of him. I’d been caught in a snare of my own making.

“Eat shit.”

I snatched the paper bags away roughly and turned my back. Considering whether or not to say goodbye was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I walked away without a hint of lingering attachment. My steps toward the house felt pathetically heavy. The wind brushing against my cheeks was cold.

Believe it or not, I was a bookworm when I was a kid. Even though my reading list mostly consisted of serialized comics, I had an interest in reading text. It was during that time that I read the classical literature Liam had brandished in front of me the other day.

At the time, my mother urged me to read books related to asset flow or real estate, but I never once glanced inside the books she gifted me. It wasn’t out of some half-baked rebellion, but simply because I had no interest.

On the day the serialization of my favorite comic ended, I graduated from reading, and by the time an incredibly good-looking man and his parents moved in next door, “bookworm” had become a label of the past.

In other words, the reason my gaze turned toward him wasn’t because of the thick book he carried under his arm. Around that time, the comic I loved had already been made into a movie, and even the sequel was out.

‘Hello.’

When I leaned both arms on the first-floor window frame and craned my head outside to greet him, he didn’t react at all. He just kept walking leisurely along.

‘Hey! You there!’

I tried calling out like a little punk, but I couldn’t get anything out of him. The man, having drifted far away, disappeared from sight, only to return a while later carrying a cup of coffee.

‘Blondie!’

Only after I shouted out one of his features did I finally receive his attention. He took me in with emerald eyes that seemed to have absorbed the refreshing energy of early summer.

‘Were you talking to me?’

‘Yeah!’

He said he didn’t realize I was calling him. It was such an absurd thing to say that I let out a hollow laugh.

‘How could you not know?’

‘How would I?’

‘You should just know. You make people want to talk to you. That’s just how you look.’

Exactly how impressive did he look? Well, it wasn’t just humans who were stimulated by that urge.

‘Turn around.’

‘What?’

‘Look behind you.’

Two small dogs had stopped behind him, wagging their tails. The man, turning around without knowing why, gave them a wave. As the owner, who skillfully adjusted the dogs’ leashes, accepted the greeting and tried to strike up a conversation with him, I raised my voice.

‘See, I’m right, aren’t I?’

Immediately after, the dogs began to bark yap yap. They looked incredibly cute, like white cotton balls with their fluffy fur. The man looked back and forth between me and the pups, then chose me.

‘I don’t believe an animal just spoke to me. There is an uncrossable river between a dog and Homo loquens…’

‘Homo what? Homo Lucas?’

‘Homo loquens. Linguistic man.’

‘Linguistic man, huh. I guess I, talking like this, belong to that too.’

I let the parade of boring common sense slide and said goodbye to the dogs. Following the little ones as they sped ahead on their short legs, the owner also hurried away.

‘Have you ever walked a dog?’

When I threw out a new topic, the man responded to the conversation with a lukewarm attitude.

‘Are you asking because you’re truly curious?’

‘What else?’

‘It could be a question used simply as a means to talk to me. To use your expression, since I “look like I’d make people want to talk to me.”’

His guess was very accurate.

‘You caught me. But now I really am curious. So, will you answer?’

Seeing as I’d been found out by his keen insight, I showed my honest thoughts, and only then did the man give me an answer.

‘A few times when I was a kid. I took out a dog owned by someone I knew.’

‘It wagged its tail like crazy when it saw you too, didn’t it?’

‘I don’t recall that much.’

‘I’d bet there’s a 98% chance I’m right.’

He gave me a shrug as I cited specific numbers.

‘I don’t know what formula you used to calculate that, but it lacks credibility.’

‘The formula is intuition. It’s quite accurate.’

‘My intuition is telling me that you’re a strange person.’