I offered Liam the coffee the waiter had just brought over. He picked up the cup while brushing a hand over the side of his face, his expression loose and free of tension. He didn’t seem to need comfort, so we shared a silent tea time instead.
The rich scent of coffee tangled together with the chatter from the surrounding tables, and the sunlight still poured down brightly. Behind the lenses of my sunglasses, my eyes rolled around a few times, but my gaze never reached the black sedan.
Lately, I’d been treating Eden like part of the scenery. Until the wounds from getting hurt by the trap I’d laid myself had healed, I didn’t want to face him or exchange words with him. The wound was fairly deep, so it still had a long way to go before fully healing.
The memories of that day began resurfacing vividly, making me frown. Pressing firmly against my tightly furrowed brows to massage them, I leaned forward. Just as I decided to interrupt Liam, who’d fallen into thought, he set his cup down. I didn’t miss the opening and spoke up.
“There’s something I’m curious about.”
“If it’s about me, I decline.”
“I politely decline your declination.”
“You’re being self-willed again. Just saying it politely doesn’t make it polite.”
Clicking his tongue, Liam pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Unless it’s urgent, answer my question first.”
“It may not be urgent for me, but it could be urgent for the recipient of the message.”
“Then send it quickly and focus on me.”
I waited for him to put his phone down before asking.
“How did you know your feelings had been cleanly filtered out? That love and friendship had separated and no longer mixed together. Did you suddenly realize it? Was there some kind of period put at the end?”
As someone who knew nothing about love, it was a realm difficult for me even to imagine.
“Did they start feeling like just a friend? Did that special affection disappear one day?”
Could love really be cut apart with a knife? Did it evaporate if boiled hot enough? Could its roots really be pulled out that easily?
“When it disappears, can you actually tell?”
Did the thoughts empty out? Or the heart? Both? Or did it not matter even if they didn’t?
“Does a red warning light come on or something?”
Liam lost every possible escape route under the barrage of questions.
“You really know how to make someone unable to ignore you.”
He complained first before finally answering.
“There’s no need for a long explanation. If you think about it, you’ll know. It’s my feelings, so of course I’d know. If I don’t know, then who would?”
“Thinking…”
“Yeah. Thinking.”
“Would it help if I started thinking more often? Like training myself.”
“What kind of training? Do you need enlightenment or something?”
I faltered, then straightened my body back into place.
“No.”
My knowledge of love was pitifully lacking—to the point that talking about enlightenment felt embarrassing. What was the point in learning how to stop a car when I didn’t even know how to start one?
Without understanding love itself, it was difficult to understand the point where love faded away. I couldn’t even take a single step forward, so there was no way I could reach something a hundred steps away. There had to be a beginning for there to be an end. Someone with nothing couldn’t have heartbreak either.
“I said something pointless.”
I brushed aside my near-slip-up of questions and changed the subject.
“I’m planning to show my face at Racer’s party. Want me to pass along any news?”
“No. I’m not even that close with that bastard.”
“You think you’re close with me though, right? Surely if someone asked, you wouldn’t say, ‘I’m not even that close with that bastard Somerset.’”
I mimicked his indifferent tone while pressing him, and Liam responded shamelessly.
“As if. I’d say we’re extremely close. Pretending to be close with model Somerset Quinn is useful.”
“You’re seriously annoying.”
Grumbling, I leaned back into my chair. The backrest was low enough that my head almost tipped backward. Supporting the back of my neck with one hand, I looked up at the sky. Borrowing the protection of my sunglasses, I fought a staring contest with the sunlight.
The sun seemed to criticize my eyes for repeatedly wanting to roll toward the roadside during our meal, and I offered my own defense.
I only tried. They never reached Eden. Count it as eye exercise.
Liam pulled me out of my stillness.
“Somerset. Didn’t your phone vibrate?”
“No.”
“I’m pretty sure it did earlier.”
“I don’t know.”
“It definitely did.”
Unable to resist his persistent urging, I checked my phone. There was a message from Liam from over ten minutes ago. He’d sent it himself, then pretended ignorance while dropping hints about it. It was absurd. We’d been sitting face-to-face the whole time, so why send me a message instead of just saying it out loud—…
Liam Dalton
[The person sitting behind you looks like that manager from before.]
When I turned my head, Eden was there.
Resting his chin on one hand, he looked languid. Even though I’d caught him being there, he wasn’t flustered in the slightest—if anything, he looked relaxed. His tousled hair swept back from his forehead fluttered lightly in the wind while he remained perfectly still, watching me.
The black horn-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose felt like prison bars. A device restraining those emerald eyes from violently wavering. Maybe another emotion would reveal itself if the glasses came off, but either way, the gaze directed at me now was calm.
I pushed my sunglasses up halfway like a headband and looked at Eden with my bare eyes. It wasn’t like I’d intentionally sought him out—he’d simply entered my field of vision—so I couldn’t deny I’d let my guard down. Unlike his composure, I was actually pretty startled by this situation.
If this had been a sports match, Eden Reed would’ve lost by foul play. Wasn’t it far too petty and underhanded to wreck someone’s mood, leave them unable to sleep, and then suddenly stride right up beside them? He always gave me room to hope, only to pull away the moment I paid attention.
My wounds still throbbed too much to endure that emptiness again. I put my sunglasses back on and turned away.
“Ah!”
Liam froze awkwardly while holding my coffee cup. While I’d been distracted, he’d stolen my coffee and gotten caught drinking it.
“You can have it. I lost my appetite anyway.”
“No, I was just joking.”
The cup he set back down while declining was already empty.
“Guess a ghost drank my coffee.”
“Maybe. Anyway, that’s the same manager from before, right?”
Liam’s gaze drifted over my shoulder. Eden wasn’t my manager, but I didn’t bother correcting the misunderstanding. It wasn’t exactly something I could explain by introducing him as my stalker. I gave a vague half-nod instead.
“When did you recognize him?”
“From the moment he walked this way.”
So he’d known from the very beginning.
“If you knew, then you should’ve told me sooner—”
“I did tell you sooner. You’re the one who didn’t check your phone.”
“If you sent a message, you should’ve at least said—”
“Don’t turn your arrows on me after I even worried it might be urgent for the recipient.”
Since Liam kept saying things that were objectively correct, I had no choice but to shut my mouth. Smiling smugly, he gathered his coat and stood up.
“I don’t think this is any of my business. I’ll get going first.”
I replaced my farewell with a small wave and slowly turned my head after him. While watching Liam, Eden naturally entered my line of sight again as an added bonus. It was basically an accident unrelated to my intentions.
Eden had lowered the hand that’d been supporting his chin and was now sitting properly upright. His neatly hanging tie and spine were perfectly parallel. At a glance, he looked like a Wall Street stockbroker, but the clean precision of his posture gave him an extraordinary air. If this were a movie, action would suit him best—specifically the role of a spy agent.
In reality, he was just a stalker.
“Mr. Manager.”
Liam stopped walking and faced Eden.
“Yes, Mr. Dalton.”
Eden answered while still keeping his gaze fixed on me. Liam, who’d never introduced himself, redirected his gaze at me after hearing his name spoken.
I don’t go around talking about other people. Glancing at me with eyes that almost seemed coaxing, he shifted his attention back to Eden.
“If possible, you should look for another profession. I don’t think being a manager really suits you.”
Despite the somewhat rude advice, Eden neither looked offended nor politely entertained the comment. Wearing an emotionless expression, he stared only at me.
“You don’t seem like you’re listening very carefully, but let me say one more thing.”
Liam continued while following Eden’s gaze fixed on me.
“He’s surprisingly a decent guy.”
Only then did Eden finally show a reaction worthy of being called a reaction. Slowly lifting his eyes, he looked up at Liam and gave a short laugh.
“Is that surprising?”
It was phrased like a question, but he didn’t seem genuinely curious, and Liam didn’t look interested in answering either. To an outsider, they might’ve looked like two men subtly fighting over me.
In reality, though, one was a friend who found me troublesome, and the other was a stalker who kept pushing me away.
Still, they were connected through me, so I stepped in to mediate.
“Aren’t you leaving? You’ll be busy going home to read books and pack.”
Liam muttered, “I should go,” then took a few steps back toward me.
“See you when I get back, my surprisingly decent friend.”
His sudden friendliness made me uncomfortable, so I waved him away like I was shooing flies. Liam glanced once at Eden before walking off. Before he fully disappeared from view, a message arrived.
Liam Dalton
[The manager still seems to misunderstand the relationship between you and me, so clear it up.]
It wasn’t even really a misunderstanding. And even if he misunderstood, he didn’t care anyway. Trying to explain would only make me look pathetic.
Liam Dalton
[Even after I come back from LA, you’re banned from entering my house unless the manager gives permission.]
Receiving such an absurd demand, I asked why.
Liam Dalton
[I don’t want to get dragged into annoying situations.]
[He’s not your stalker or anything, right?]
He is a stalker. A terrible stalker at that. He looks perfectly normal, but unexpectedly, he’s a very strange man.
[I’ll see you when you get back. I’ll camp outside your house.]
Instead of telling the truth, I replied with a half-threat and toyed with the car keys in my pocket.
Without saying a word, I stood up and walked past as though I hadn’t seen Eden. I wondered whether he was still following me with his eyes, whether he’d followed me out, whether he was behind me now—but I didn’t look back.
