Chapter 11 - The First Glimpse of Rivalry Part 6
736 Words
Oliver's POV
The bookstore feels different today. Quieter, despite the usual faint hum of background music and the occasional chime of the entrance bell. Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's the way Ji-ah hasn't quite looked me in the eye since she walked in this morning.
She's been flipping through a stack of books at the register, her fingers idly tracing the spines, but I can tell she isn't really focused. Her movements are slower than usual, almost hesitant. Like she wants to say something but doesn't know how.
I get it. I want to say something too.
About Sarah.
About last night.
About the way she looked at me when she saw Sarah clinging to my arm.
But I don't know where to start, and I don't know if she even cares. Maybe she was just surprised. Maybe it had nothing to do with me at all.
I stack some new arrivals onto the shelf near the front, sneaking a glance at her. Ji-ah looks up at me then, and for a second, our eyes meet. Something flickers in her expression, but she looks away before I can figure out what it is.
Yeah. This tension is going to drive me insane.
When lunch rolls around, we settle into our usual routine, taking our break together in the small staff room. The awkwardness is still there, but it's thinner now, as if neither of us is fully committed to staying mad or distant. Ji-ah stabs at her salad with more force than necessary, her brows pinched together in thought.
I clear my throat. "So... how was coffee?"
She pauses mid-bite, eyes flicking up to mine. "It was fine."
Fine.
I wait, expecting more, but she just shrugs and goes back to poking at her food. Something about her short response makes my chest tighten.
I lean back in my chair, forcing my voice to stay even. "Ethan's a smooth talker."
She lets out a short laugh, but there's no real humor in it. "Yeah, I noticed."
Something about the way she says it makes me wonder if the date—or whatever it was—didn't go as perfectly as Ethan had hoped. That thought shouldn't make me feel as satisfied as it does.
Ji-ah exhales, setting her fork down. Her fingers drum against the table for a second before she finally speaks. "So... Sarah."
And there it is.
I tense, though I try to play it off. "What about her?"
She hesitates. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just—" She sighs, shaking her head like she's trying to figure out her own thoughts. "I don't know. It just seemed... unexpected."
I look down at my hands, running a thumb over the edge of my coffee cup. I could brush it off. I could change the subject. But I don't want to do that. Not with Ji-ah.
"She called me last night," I admit finally. "She was drunk and alone. I didn't want to go, but... I didn't feel right ignoring it."
Ji-ah watches me carefully, but she doesn't interrupt.
I exhale, rubbing a hand over my jaw. "Sarah and I... we weren't good together. It was toxic. Messy. She'd manipulate me, play games, and I was too stupid to see it for a long time."
Ji-ah's brows pull together, her expression softening.
"I'm not in love with her," I add quickly. "I haven't been for a long time. But I also know what she's like when she's that drunk, and I didn't want to take the risk of something bad happening to her."
Ji-ah nods slowly, as if processing my words. "That makes sense."
I search her face, trying to gauge what she's thinking. "You looked... upset last night."
Her lips part slightly, caught off guard. "I wasn't upset."
I lift a brow. "No?"
She shifts in her seat, avoiding my gaze. "I was just... surprised."
Right. Surprised.
Silence stretches between us, thick but not entirely uncomfortable. It feels like we're both standing at the edge of something, neither of us sure if we should take the next step.
"Are we good?" I ask finally, my voice quieter than before.
Ji-ah looks up at me, and after a moment, she offers a small smile. "Yeah. We're good."
I nod, but something inside me tells me that whatever this is between us—it's far from over.
- Writer
