Chapter 2
After getting ready for bed and flopping down, my phone lit up with a message from Ethan: [Home safe.]
I just sent back a cute emoji to show I got it, and that was that—we didn't keep talking.
After a solid night's sleep, I woke up the next morning and grabbed my phone. Ethan had messaged me about half an hour ago.
It was a simple "Good morning," along with a pic of his office—sunlight spilling over a spotless desk.
I leaned back against my headboard and texted: [Mr. Grant, up and working already? You really don't slack off, huh.]
He replied right away: [Got a patient coming in for a follow-up this morning.]
I got curious. [Wait, didn't Ryan say you're just their company shrink? You see other patients too?]
He replied: [I just have my name at Ryan's company and pop in every so often. Most of the time, I'm working at the hospital's psych clinic.]
[Oh, makes sense.] I texted back, so that's what he actually does.
We chatted for a bit, then I got ready and went to work.
As I walked up to the elevator in my office building, I bumped into James—someone I hadn't seen in nearly two months.
He was standing with the crowd waiting for the elevator, and as soon as he saw me, his eyes locked onto mine.
We got into the elevator together, and in that cramped space, he stood right next to me. Neither of us said a word, but the awkward silence between us made me feel oddly uncomfortable.
"Sophie," James finally broke the silence, his voice cutting through the elevator's quiet hum. "Busy with anything lately?"
"Just working, what else would I be busy with?" I answered casually, eyes still fixed on the changing floor numbers.
The elevator stopped at the ninth floor, and the doors slid open. I followed the crowd out, but just as I stepped through, I heard his voice behind me. "Wanna grab lunch?"
I paused for a moment, didn't look back, just turned my head slightly and said, "Yeah, text me the place."
Over lunch, James and I sat across from each other at the restaurant.
Just then, my phone on the table lit up with a crisp WeChat notification. I instinctively glanced at the screen.
It was a message from Ethan. [Have you had lunch yet?]
I picked up my phone and quickly typed back: [Still waiting.]
He replied almost instantly: [Are you eating out?]
I glanced up at James, who was still looking down at the menu, then typed back: [Yeah, just grabbing lunch with a friend.]
"Want to try the lobster here?" James asked, sliding the menu over to me.
"Whatever you want, you pick," I replied, still glued to my phone, fingers flying over the screen, barely paying attention.
"Alright," he said, taking the menu back, his voice a little quieter.
Even after all the food was served, I was still totally absorbed in my chat with Ethan.
He was telling me about some hilarious mishaps from his training days with Ryan, and just picturing Ryan crashing and burning had me grinning at my phone, barely able to hold back a laugh.
James, sitting across from me, took in every little thing I did. The way I was so into the conversation, so at ease—it had been ages since he'd seen me like that around him.
In a split second, the scene from the restaurant flashed through his mind—the guy smiling as he peeled shrimp for me, and she happily accepting it.
His fingers tightened around his glass without him even realizing it, that suffocating feeling creeping back into his chest.
Ever since that night when I said I wanted to start dating, James had been plagued by this vague, restless anxiety—he'd pretty much lost his appetite for everything.
"Who are you texting? You seem really into it," James asked from across the table, sounding casual enough, but his eyes were glued to my still-lit phone screen.
"Huh?" I looked up, instinctively locking my phone and putting on my best casual smile. "Oh, just a friend I met recently."
James didn't say a word, just kept staring at me, his eyes swirling with emotions I couldn't quite place.