Chapter 2

As we pushed open the glass door of the stew restaurant, a blast of heat mixed with the mouthwatering scent hit me right in the face.

The place was packed, and we had to weave our way through the crowded aisles for what felt like forever before finally finding a free table tucked away in the corner.

As I opened the menu, I caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of my eye.

Alex was sitting in a booth diagonally across from us, wearing that dark blue hoodie I'd given him.

Emma was sitting right across from him, with a strawberry hairpin tucked into her hair.

Alex had picked out that hairpin when we went shopping last week. Back then, I was dumb enough to think he was getting it for me.

They were chatting about something, and Emma was laughing like she was having the best time ever. Alex was serving her food with this practiced ease, as if it were second nature to him.

But Alex had never even had stew with me.

He was a total clean freak and absolutely hated the smell of stew getting on his clothes. One time, after I snuck out for stew, he avoided me for three days straight.

I could still remember the way he frowned at me back then.

"Stay away from me. You reek. Don't come near me after you've had stew," he said back then.

But now, the same guy who used to insist on sitting upwind even when we had barbecue was sitting in the hottest, stuffiest corner of the stew place, expertly serving food for Emma. He did everything with such practiced skill, like he'd been doing it his whole life.

Emma must've said something funny, because he suddenly laughed.

I hadn't seen him laugh like that in forever, so real and unguarded. He even reached over and gently fixed her bangs, wiping away a bit of sauce.

"You okay, Sophie? Want to go somewhere else?" my roommate whispered.

That was when I realized my nails had dug into my palms, leaving four little red crescents.

The glass window showed my pale face, such a sharp contrast to all that warmth and laughter on the other side.

"I'm fine. Order whatever you want. My treat today," I said.

After a while, Alex got up to grab some condiments. His gaze scanned the place until it landed on me hiding out in the corner. His face went stiff, and he crossed the distance in three long strides.

"Sophie, what are you doing here? Were you following me? Missing me already? Came here hoping to patch things up?" he said.

He looked down at me with a sarcastic curl to his lips.

He said, "Not this time. I'm not forgiving you so easily. Otherwise, you'll just keep throwing tantrums whenever you feel like it."

Alex shoved one hand in his pocket and tapped the table with the other.

I looked at him quietly, giving him absolutely no response.

Emma noticed the commotion and hurried over. When she saw me, she froze, looking like a startled rabbit.

"Sophie, you guys are eating here, too? Alex just helped me move my things, so I wanted to buy him dinner to thank him. Please don't get the wrong idea. I just see him like a big brother," she said.

Seeing Emma switch back to her sweet, fragile act, I just had to laugh.

I said, "A big brother? You mean the one who got your call, heard you were lost, and left me in the middle of our shopping date to come find you?

"Or the one you texted at midnight, crying alone in some hotel room, begging him to come keep you company?

"Or maybe the one you send selfies in lingerie to? Sorry, but I've never met a 'little sister' like that. We just call her a bitch."

Emma suddenly burst into tears.

She pleaded, "I'm sorry, Sophie. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't have any other friends, so I kept messaging Alex all the time. That photo was a total accident, I promise. What do I have to do for you to forgive me?

"It's all my fault. Can you please not break up with Alex?"

As she spoke, Emma actually bowed to me.

I stood up from my chair.

"Emma, what are you doing?" I asked.

Alex reached out and helped Emma up.

"Come on, this isn't about you. It's not your fault," Alex said.

But instead of straightening up, Emma just kept sobbing, her words coming out in broken pleas.

"I'll beg you. Please, don't blame him anymore. It's all my fault. I was the one who screwed up," she choked out.

And then, to my utter disbelief, she actually collapsed to the ground and started banging her forehead against the tile, each dull thud echoing through the room.

Alex pulled Emma into his arms, and then shot me a glare.

He said, "Sophie, do you always have to go so far? Emma's just a small-town girl. She doesn't know how things work here. Don't project your dirty thoughts onto her. She's pure, not like you at all."

My roommate, fed up, slammed her spoon down on the table.

"Seriously, man? She did everything on her own. Nobody made her do it," my roommate shot back.

Alex ignored my roommate and turned back to me.

"Sophie, go reflect on your own mistakes," he said.

With that, he wrapped his arm around Emma and walked out, leaving the whole place buzzing with whispers and the table a total mess.