Mistaken by My Appearance

CHAPTER 3: The Man Who Never Stayed

The island had a way of slowing things down—but Harem Velasco had never been the kind of man who moved slowly.

Even now, as the ocean stretched endlessly in front of him and the air carried a kind of stillness he wasn’t used to, there was something restless beneath his calm exterior. It didn’t show in the way he stood—relaxed, composed, one hand tucked casually into his pocket—but it was there, in the way his gaze didn’t settle for too long, in the way his thoughts kept moving even when his body didn’t.

Because stillness, to him, had always felt unfamiliar.

Almost uncomfortable.

He wasn’t used to places that didn’t demand anything from him.

He wasn’t used to silence that didn’t need to be filled.

And he definitely wasn’t used to people who didn’t react to him at all.

“This was supposed to be relaxing.”

Liam’s voice broke through the quiet as he stepped out onto the balcony of their beachfront villa, two glasses in hand, one of which he handed to Harem without looking at him.

Harem took it absentmindedly, his gaze still fixed somewhere beyond the horizon.

“It is relaxing,” he replied smoothly, taking a small sip.

Liam let out a short laugh. “You’ve been staring at the ocean like it personally offended you.”

That earned him a faint smirk.

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s new.”

Harem glanced at him briefly, unimpressed. “You’re very funny.”

“I try,” Liam said lightly, leaning against the railing. “So… are you going to admit it, or are we going to pretend this trip wasn’t your idea for a very specific reason?”

Harem didn’t answer immediately.

But the silence this time—

Wasn’t empty.

“I needed a break,” he said finally, his tone quieter than usual, though still controlled.

Liam tilted his head slightly, studying him.

“From what?”

That question lingered longer than it should have.

Because the answer wasn’t simple.

And for someone like Harem—

Simple was always easier.

From expectations.

From routine.

From the version of himself he had built so carefully over the years.

But most of all—

From the realization that none of it felt like enough anymore.

“Everything,” Harem said eventually, choosing the easiest version of the truth.

Liam didn’t push.

He knew better.

They had been friends long enough to understand that Harem rarely said more than what he was willing to give—and anything deeper than that had to be seen, not asked.

And right now—

There was something different.

“You’ve been off lately,” Liam said, his tone less teasing now, more observant. “Even before we got here.”

Harem exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before leaning slightly against the railing.

“I’m just tired,” he admitted.

Not physically.

Never physically.

But something else.

Something harder to explain.

It hadn’t happened all at once.

There was no single moment he could point to and say, that’s when it changed.

It was gradual.

Subtle.

The way things often were when they mattered the most.

The parties became repetitive.

The conversations predictable.

The women—

Beautiful, interesting, different in their own ways—

But somehow, all the same.

They laughed at the right moments.

Looked at him the same way.

Wanted the same things.

And for a while—

That had been enough.

More than enough.

But recently—

It wasn’t.

“I thought this place would help,” Harem continued, his gaze drifting back toward the ocean. “Something quieter. Less… artificial.”

Liam nodded slowly. “So instead of noise, you chose silence.”

“Something like that.”

“And is it working?”

Harem didn’t answer right away.

Because he didn’t expect the answer to be her.

Penelope.

He hadn’t planned for that.

Hadn’t expected that in a place like this—some quiet island far from everything he was used to—he would find someone who didn’t fit into any of the patterns he had spent years understanding.

Someone who didn’t respond the way people usually did.

Someone who didn’t want anything from him.

“That depends,” Harem said finally, his tone shifting slightly.

Liam noticed.

He always did.

“On what?” he asked, though he already had an idea.

Harem’s lips curved faintly, his gaze lowering just slightly, as if replaying something in his mind.

“On whether I get bored,” he said.

But there was something about the way he said it—

That didn’t sound like boredom at all.

Liam watched him carefully for a moment before letting out a quiet breath.

“Just don’t turn this into one of your games,” he said, his voice steady.

Harem glanced at him, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

“And what exactly do you think I’m doing?”

Liam didn’t hesitate.

“I think you found someone who doesn’t care about you,” he said plainly. “And now you want to see if you can change that.”

The words hung in the air between them.

Uncomfortable.

Accurate.

Harem didn’t deny it.

But he didn’t agree either.

Because for once—

He wasn’t entirely sure.

Maybe it was curiosity.

Maybe it was the challenge.

Or maybe—

It was something else entirely.

Something he hadn’t felt before.

“She’s different,” he said quietly.

Liam shook his head slightly. “They’re always ‘different’ at the beginning.”

“No,” Harem replied, his voice calm but certain.

“This one didn’t even try.”

And somehow—

That was exactly what stayed with him.

He remembered the way she looked at him.

Or rather—

The way she didn’t.

No hesitation.

No interest.

No recognition of who he was or what he represented.

Just… indifference.

Clean.

Uncomplicated.

Unimpressed.

It should have annoyed him.

It usually would have.

But instead—

It did something else.

—

It made him want to understand her.

“I’ll be careful,” Harem added after a moment, though it sounded more like something he was saying for Liam’s sake than his own.

Liam let out a quiet sigh, not fully convinced.

“You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

“That doesn’t make it true.”

Harem didn’t argue.

Because deep down—

He knew.

He wasn’t known for staying.

Not in places.

Not with people.

Not in anything that required more than what he was used to giving.

It had always been easier that way.

Cleaner.

Safer.

But as his gaze drifted once more toward the direction of the café—

Toward the quiet space where she moved like she belonged to something untouched by everything he had ever known—

He felt something unfamiliar settle quietly in his chest.

Not loud.

Not overwhelming.

But steady.

Persistent.

For the first time in a long time—

Harem Velasco wasn’t thinking about leaving.

And that—

More than anything—

Should have worried him.