I nod slowly, shifting back, forcing an easy breath.“Alright.”
She exhales, looking down at her phone, tracing the edges of it with her thumb again.
And that’s when I see it.
Her fingers twitch, gripping just a little tighter, and something clicks into place in my mind.
I tilt my head, watching her closely.“You opened it.”
She stills.
Doesn’t argue.
Doesn’t deny it.
I exhale, my lips pressing together.I wasn’t expecting that.
Anna sighs, setting her phone down beside her.“You’resoannoying.”
I let out a quiet chuckle, but it’s softer this time.“Yeah,” I say.“I know.”
She doesn’t look at me right away, just stares at the setlist between us.But something about her feels… unsteady.Like she’s standing too close to an edge she didn’t realize was there.
Her jaw tightens.Then, she shakes her head, her voice quieter now.“I can’t do that song.Not now, not ever, Joel.”
I frown, setting aside my guitar so I can turn to face her.
She swallows, her fingers gripping her phone like a lifeline.“It still hurts too much.”
I don’t move, barely breathe.
Anna Chang just admitted to me she has feelings.Feelings about the song.Feelings about us singing it.Hell, feelings in general.
Maybe even feelings about me.
She exhales sharply, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead before dragging it through her hair.“Look, we have this… thing.A temporary ceasefire.We get through Mina’s party, and then you can go back to being famous or whatever, and I can go back to my life.”
I study her for a moment.I don’t know what to say or how to make this better.
Maybe there isn’t a way.
Maybe I already ruined it beyond repair and this little glimmer of civility—that’s all it will ever be between us.
That thought feels like a punch to the gut.
She shakes her head, like she’s trying to clear something away, then pushes off the couch, grabbing her phone.“I really do have work to do.”
I nod, because what the hell else can I do?
She moves toward the door, but just as she reaches for the handle, her fingers hesitate on the knob.
It’s small.Barely a pause.But again, I see it.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
I see all of it.
The way her breath stutters, just for a second, before she squares her shoulders.The way her knuckles tighten around her phone, like she needs something to hold onto.The way she won’t look at me—not because she’s indifferent, but because sheisn’t.