MERRY 29

It was a concise but clear defense. It didn’t just clear up the misunderstanding; it had a massive impact. The internal agitation that had been stirring in a corner of my heart spread to my brain. The “positivity button,” which had been gathering dust after days of being thoroughly ignored, suddenly flickered back to life.

Just because I knew a fragmentary thought didn’t mean I knew everything about him—and there was no way he’d show me more—but I fell into the illusion that I had become the one person in the world who understood him most perfectly. I was drunk on it, even while knowing it was an illusion.

“So you were really uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Because Liam and I looked close? Because you thought we had sex?”

When I asked specifically, a fine crease appeared between Ethan’s brows.

“Yes.”

He was making me confused again. It was incredibly cheeky of him… but I didn’t feel bad. No, in fact, I felt pretty good.

I didn’t even feel ashamed of the fact that I’d been making such a fuss on my own. It happens in life. It’s no big deal. Dismissing my past heartaches as mere trifles, I grinned like an idiot.

“I guess taking Jimmy Myers away from me was for a similar reason, then.”

If this were a photo shoot and there were a camera and a dozen staff members in front of me, applause would have poured in. I was fully aware of the dashing smile I wore. That was why I leaned further toward the passenger seat. I was disappointed by Ethan’s stoic reaction, but a little dent like that couldn’t dampen my high spirits.

I tried to force the corners of my mouth, which were curled upward, back to their original position—or perhaps I spoke while they remained exactly where they were.

“Liam and I are just ordinary friends. We did sleep together, but there are no feelings beyond friendship.”

I haven’t even slept with him since you showed up.

“I’m telling you this because I was asked for an explanation. I felt a bit sorry for you, thinking of you tossing and turning in bed, shivering with discomfort.”

I probably wasn’t the only one who spent the night with eyes wide open.

“By any chance, did you ever bury your face in your pillow and sob?”

At the mischievous joke, Ethan snapped his head away. He looked displeased, but his mouth remained stubbornly shut. It looked like he’d put a heavy padlock on it.

“You did. I knew it.”

I answered for him and started the car.

“If I say I’ll drive you all the way home, you’ll just decline. You obviously won’t give me your address, and you have no intention of telling me which neighborhood you live in. So, we’re going to my apartment.”

I drove fast toward my place in Chelsea. I hopped out of the car and ran to the passenger side, but my effort was in vain; in that short time, Ethan had already opened the door and stepped out on his own. Standing before him, I offered a parting word with a hint of a “doing you a favor” tone.

“Get some deep rest today and focus on healing that wound. I’ll stay home quietly for you.”

Just as I turned away, expecting no reply, Ethan’s voice hit my back along with the pale light of the setting sun.

“Goodnight.”

I turned my head, gave him a grin, and walked away with a light step.

I asked Samuel for your number. Did you get home okay that day? — Jimmy Myers —

Jimmy Myers contacted me from an unsaved number and left his name. He was a far cry from the kid who used to stick notes in my locker and run away.

The “day” he mentioned had provided a small inflection point in my daily life. Since that evening when I’d returned home with a step as light as air, a vague sense of peace had arrived.

Before the night grew deep, I had searched for things like how to make a lip wound heal faster, people who relieve stress through car chases, self-defense, and signs of jealousy, while also sending a message to Ethan.

Did you get home? Did you treat the wound? Want me to buy you some medicine?

The reply was brief.

Stalker

I’m fine.

Lying face down on my bed, I had kicked my feet in the air while holding the phone over my head. The duvet flapped up and then settled back down on my body.

Thanks to sleeping well since that day, my fatigue had vanished completely, and the tension in my relationship with Ethan had loosened. I no longer spared a glance at the plan to set a trap by bringing up contact from another man.

Yeah.

After sending an effortless reply to Jimmy Myers, I stood with my hands shoved in my pockets. After playing the role of a doorman for a long while as I waited for my stalker, I glanced around. Strangely, I couldn’t see a black sedan or Ethan. I went to the apartment parking lot thinking he might be waiting there, but he wasn’t.

“Ethan.”

The name I called out just in case became a monologue addressed to thin air.

“Ethan Reed.”

Did he oversleep? Maybe some trouble came up because he was neglecting his day job to do all this stalking. But does he even have a day job?

The moment my string of questions took a slight turn, my peace was threatened.

Don’t tell me he disappeared again. Suddenly, without a word.

Anxiety surged, and I wandered here and there with my jacket clutched in my hand. Soon enough, I found Ethan. He was behind the glass window of a donut shop.

“I don’t care whether he disappears or not. It’s nothing to me.”

When I tried to whip myself for feeling relief, my inner self rebelled.

You can be surprised if someone disappears suddenly. It’s even more like that because he has a history. You don’t get used to bad experiences. You get wary.

Because my polarized egos were pulling me from both sides, I couldn’t easily organize my thoughts. Scratching my head, I stepped into the donut shop.

Ethan, wearing a casual leather jacket instead of a suit jacket, was holding a business card in his hand. Thinking it might be his, I hurried over to check, but it had someone else’s name on it.

“I guess someone left it for you? Diligent, even so early in the morning.”

“It’s a stranger.”

“Why are you keeping a stranger’s card instead of throwing it away? It’s not like you’ll have a use for it. I’ll give some advice for the sake of the card’s owner. A man who can’t reveal his identity isn’t mysterious—he’s suspicious.”

I meddled in a lecturing tone as I tossed my jacket onto one side of the table. A coffee and a chocolate donut with one bite taken out of it sat on the small, round table. Ethan spoke as he moved the plate aside.

“I understood you had no plans to go out today.”

My schedule for today was to do some strength training at the apartment gym and then lounge around at home. Before enjoying my long-awaited rest, I’d felt restless at the thought of being cooped up all day, so I’d come out for some fresh air. Just for a walk.

I really only came out for a moment for that reason, not to see Ethan Reed’s face.

“The weather is nice, and if you stay home, you get lazy, and also… a man like me is busy. Today and tomorrow. Especially tomorrow, because I’m meeting a man.”

I was going to tell the truth but pivoted. I’d planned to transition naturally from a funny joke to an apology for the past, taking responsibility for my mistake.

“I doubt that.”

Ethan let out a smirk as if it were ridiculous. Immediately after, the person I was meeting tomorrow was mentioned from his mouth.

“Did Ms. Quinn have a sex change without me knowing? I haven’t seen that in the news.”

Nothing had changed for my mom.

“If you see news like that, let me know first.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Of course, such a thing would never happen. Various conversation topics came to mind—why I was meeting my mom, what kind of day tomorrow was, how you’re a stalker so you probably already know but not to worry about it—but I brought up something else.

“Since you knew I had no schedule, why are you here? I came out because I knew you’d be like this. To tell you to go home today. Oh, I mean, that was a secondary reason. I really just came out for fresh air.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

Ethan, who was nodding, stopped at an ambiguous angle, looking slightly downward. It was a small movement, but he had a knack for drawing one’s attention. While I watched him, he muttered with an air of being completely unaware of my gaze.

“I might not be following you.”

Yeah, right. I snorted.

“No matter how you look at it, you’re following me. This is near the apartment where I live.”

“You aren’t the only one living in that apartment.”

“But I’m the only person in that apartment you’re stalking.”

He only lifted his gaze to look at me. The horn-rimmed glasses that had slipped down slightly covered half of his eyes, which was annoying. I toyed with the plate and paper cup on the table for no reason. And I touched the glasses on the bridge of his nose as if the existence of Ethan Reed were no different from those objects, as if the glasses were merely a spare part.