VOLUME I ‎ ‎ACT I ‎ ‎CHAPTER FOUR ‎The Secret Between Us ‎(Part One)

VOLUME I

‎ACT I

‎CHAPTER FOUR

‎The Secret Between Us

‎(Part One)

It had been exactly eight days since our kiss, and yet the taste of it still lingered on my lips like a confession I hadn’t finished making.

He didn’t say we were dating. He didn’t say we weren’t. But we acted like we were something. Something new, something fragile, something that made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t since the day I first saw him walking beside my brother in the park.

We had fallen into a rhythm: shared coffee runs, long drives that ended too soon, and text messages that turned into voice notes because words typed on a screen weren’t enough anymore. I started sleeping with my phone under my pillow, waiting for his "good night" and waking up to his "good morning."

There were times he’d brush his fingers against mine, and it felt electric. Times we’d be watching a movie and he’d pull me closer, tucking me into his side like I belonged there. Like I always had.

But even in those perfect, quiet moments, the secret sat between us. Like a second shadow.

Because as much as I loved being close to him now, I knew how close I had always been. He didn’t. And that knowledge twisted itself around my heart like a warning I refused to hear.

One evening, we were at his place. He’d made dinner — nothing extravagant, just pasta with too much garlic and a salad that was mostly croutons. But it was perfect. He poured two glasses of wine, and we sat on his tiny balcony under the stars, laughing at nothing.

"You know," he said, tapping his glass against mine, "I never thought we’d end up here."

I sipped slowly. "Where’s here?"

"This. You and me."

He looked at me then, really looked at me. Not like I was his brother’s best friend, not like I was just someone he’d seen in passing over the years. But like I was a woman he wanted. A woman he could fall for.

"It feels sudden," he said. "But also like… it makes sense."

My throat tightened. I didn’t know if it made sense. Not the way he thought it did.

He reached over and took my hand. "Have you ever felt that? Like something was supposed to happen, even if it didn’t make sense to anyone else?"

I nodded slowly. "Every day."

And it was true. I had spent years believing we were meant to be. That the universe just needed a push. I just never told him I was the one doing the pushing.

The next morning, his brother texted me.

You and K seem kinda close these days...

My fingers froze over the screen.

Just saying lol. He doesn’t usually act that way with anyone.

That “lol” wasn’t casual. It was curiosity wrapped in fake chill. He was suspicious.

I quickly replied:

Haha we’ve just been talking more. I think he sees me differently now that we’re adults.

Yeah maybe. Just don’t break his heart lol.

That one hit harder than I expected.

Because I wasn’t planning to.

But what if I already had?

Later that week, I stopped by their family home. His mom had invited me to help organize an old photo album for some event she was planning.

She greeted me like I was her daughter. Hugs. A plate of cookies. A thousand stories. She never asked why I came around less these days. Maybe she already knew.

As we flipped through the album, I spotted a photo of him at sixteen, holding a medal from some high school competition.

"He was so proud that day," she said, her eyes soft. "I remember thinking, whoever ends up with him is going to be the luckiest girl in the world."

I smiled, fingers brushing the edge of the picture.

"Do you still think that?" I asked quietly.

She looked at me, thoughtful. "More than ever."

I didn’t know if she meant it as encouragement or warning.

Maybe both.

That night, he called me late.

"I missed you today," he said.

"I was at your mom’s."

He laughed. "Of course you were. She probably loves you more than me."

"Not possible."

"Might be," he said. Then, after a pause: "Can I ask you something kind of serious?"

My heart skipped.

"Anything."

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

I closed my eyes. Of all the things to ask.

"I used to. I think I still do, in a way."

"I think you might be mine."

My breath caught. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to live in that sentence.

But I also wanted to deserve it.

And I didn’t. Not yet.

We saw each other again the next evening, this time in his car, parked beneath the soft orange glow of a streetlight. There was something sacred about the quiet between us. His hand rested lightly on the gearshift, fingers close to mine. I could feel his heartbeat in the space between our breaths.

"Tell me a secret," he said, without looking at me.

My stomach flipped. "Why?"

"Because I want to know everything about you."

I hesitated. Then whispered, "I don’t like Chinese food."

He turned to look at me, smiling. "You liar. You ordered it on our second date."

"I know. I didn’t want to seem picky."

He laughed. "That’s adorable. But you don’t have to lie to impress me."

My smile faded.

If only he knew.

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, and I let myself fall into that moment, just for a second. Pretending there weren’t layers beneath it. Pretending I hadn’t been building a version of this reality for years.

Maybe one day I’d deserve it. Maybe one day I’d tell him the truth.

But tonight, I held onto his hand, closed my eyes, and let him believe in the girl he thought he knew.

And I prayed she was enough.

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