Love In The Mist

Chapter 13 - The First Glimpse of Rivalry Part 8

Oliver's POV

The whiskey burns down my throat as I take another sip, the ice clinking against the glass as I swirl the amber liquid. The bar is dimly lit, the hum of conversations blending with the soft notes of a jazz tune playing from the speakers. I sit alone, staring at the half-empty glass in front of me, my mind playing and replaying every little moment of the day.

Ji-ah.

Was she dropping hints? The smiles, the way she lingered near me, the playful teasing—it felt intentional. But maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe I was just another coworker, and she was just being friendly.

But then there was that moment.

The moment where she nearly got hit by that damn car, and I didn't think—I just reacted. One second she was stepping onto the street, and the next she was in my arms, her hands pressed against my chest, her eyes wide with something I couldn't quite decipher. It had lasted only a few seconds, but the way her body felt against mine, the way her breath hitched—I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I should be brave. I should just ask her out. I should stop overthinking and just—

"Didn't think I'd find you here," a familiar voice interrupts my thoughts, laced with that ever-present edge of sarcasm.

I glance to my right and, sure enough, Ethan slides onto the stool beside me, waving down the bartender. He orders a drink, then turns to me with that smirk I've always hated.

"Drinking alone, huh? Very on-brand," he says, lifting his glass as if to toast me before taking a sip.

I grit my teeth. "What do you want, Ethan?"

"What, I can't just have a drink with my dear half-brother?" he muses, resting his elbow on the counter. "Catch up on life? Bond over our mutual disdain for our family?"

I scoff, looking away. "We have nothing to bond over."

Ethan chuckles dryly. "Right. Because you've always been so open and warm."

Silence stretches between us, thick with years of unresolved tension. We never had a real relationship. Not as kids, not as adults. He resented my mother, and by extension, he resented me. And I—

I resented him for blaming me for things I had no control over.

Ethan exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face before speaking again. "You know, I didn't want to leave town. But your mom made sure I had no choice."

I stiffen. "You had a choice."

"Did I?" He lets out a bitter laugh. "She made my life hell, Oliver. And you just stood by and let it happen."

I slam my glass down on the counter. "I was a kid, Ethan. What the hell was I supposed to do?"

He turns his head slightly, studying me, then shakes his head. "Whatever. It's done. I don't even know why I'm bringing this up."

I exhale, trying to shove away the old wounds threatening to resurface. "Then don't."

A beat of silence passes before Ethan changes the subject. "So... Ji-ah."

I stiffen again but force my expression to stay neutral. "What about her?"

He smirks. "You like her."

I stay silent. No point in denying it.

Ethan leans back slightly, swirling his drink in his hand. "She's something, isn't she? I mean, I get it. She's beautiful, smart, easy to talk to."

My jaw clenches. "What's your point?"

Ethan tilts his head. "That I like her too."

Something inside me twists, but I keep my face blank. "Congratulations."

Ethan laughs, shaking his head. "See, I was wondering how you'd react. And now I know." He leans in slightly, his tone turning smug. "So what's it gonna be, Oliver? Are you actually going to do something about it, or are you just going to keep standing in the background, overthinking everything like you always do?"

My hands curl into fists beneath the bar. "She's not a game, Ethan."

"Of course not." His smirk widens. "But I'm still going to win."

I glare at him. "We'll see about that."