274 Do You Like Her?
“There. Done. Over. Finished. I can sleep now,” Ste whispered, forcing herself to lie on her back again.
1
Miraculously, her body finally started to rx.
Her mind slowed down.
Her eyelids grew heavy.
Sleepiness washed over her like a warm wave.
She was just drifting off when her phone vibrated.
Her soul left her body.
She stared at the nightstand. The phone vibrated again. Her heart pounded wildly, but she did not
reach for it.
Not yet.
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Touching it felt like opening a cursed artifact that might explode in her face.
Finally, very slowly, she extended her hand,
grabbed the phone, and took a deep breath before looking.
Dn’s name glowed on the screen.
Her heart did a weird flip. She nervously opened
the message.
It was short.
Very short.
Only one word.
<i>“</i><i>Ok</i><i>!</i>”
Ste blinked.
Then blinked again.
That was it?
No questions? Noints? No confusion? No
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panic? No long paragraph politely declining?
Just <i>Ok</i><i>! </i>
She stared at the screen for a long moment,
stunned.
Her heart, which had been ready to sprint away, softened instead.
And, before she even realized it, a small smile tugged at her lips.
She did not know why she was smiling. She told herself it was a relief. Her heart, however, knew
better.
Meanwhile, on the twenty–fourth floor, Dn sat on Collins’s couch with a cold beer in hand.
The television was muted, the city lights glowed through the tall windows, and Collins was happily retelling the parts of the story Dn wanted to
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hear.
A few minutester…
Collins leaned back and exhaled loudly.
“Well, man, you know the rest. It was all over the news that Lana sent gangsters to kidnap Ste.”
Dn’s jaw tightened in a way only a trained observer could notice.
“Yeah, I read it. I still can’t believe that woman had the guts to do that,” he said casually.
However, his eyes betrayed a sharp annoyance that made Collins squint suspiciously.
Collins rubbed his forehead as a frown formed. Something did not add up. Dn looked too invested. Too tense. Too… something. He crossed his arms and studied him with full suspicion.
“Why do you suddenly ask about it?” Collins asked slowly.
274 Do You Like Her?
Dn took a sip of his beer. “Just curious…” he replied, although his tone was a little too quick.
Collins narrowed his eyes more. He can’t ignore his curiosity. “Curious? You? When did you start getting curious about women outside the
“Nothing,” Dn answered, trying to sound bored. “Man, did you forget I’m the one who helped her that night? Damn! You’re overthinking.”
“Well, man, I think just enough,” Collins muttered. “Hold on… no way. Are you interested in her?” His face brightened in slow realization. “You are, aren’t you? You are absolutely into her!”
Dn choked on his own beer. “What? No. Why would you say that?”
“Because you are acting strange, Dn. Very strange. Strange enough to make me think you possibly like Ste.”
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274 Do You Like Her<i>? </i>
Dn cleared his throat and set the beer aside. “You watch too many dramas. Stop assuming!”
“I’m not. Well, you look weird and avoid eye contact every time I say her name.”
“No, I do not.”
“You just did.”
“I did not.”
“You are doing it right now.”
“Collins, stop talking.”
Collins threw both hands up. “Alright. I will stop. But you know I’m right.”
Before Dn could argue back, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He assumed it was Axel. Only Axel ever contacted him thiste. He pulled the phone out and froze.
Not Axel.
But it was Ste.
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His heart did a tiny, unexpected flip.
He opened the message quickly.
“Hi Dn, <i>my </i>mother <i>knows </i>about <i>you </i><i>helping </i>me that night<i>. </i><i>And </i>she asks <i>you </i><i>to </i><ie </i><i>to </i><i>dinner </i><i>with </i>us this Friday <i>night</i>.”
His entire brain went silent.
Dinner.
At her house.
With her mother.
Dn stared at the message as if it were a time bomb.
And, Collins noticed his expression, he asked, “Man, who is it? Boss Axel?”
“No. It is not him,” Dn muttered, already standing up.
“Then why do you look like someone who has just
274 Do You Like Her?
heard someone confess their love to you?” Collins asked, whileughing.
Dn ignores his nonsense. “Oh, ha ha! Shut up, Collins! I got to go. There is something I have to take care of.”
“Wait. What? Now? It is the middle of the night!”
But Dn was already halfway out the door.
“Dn! Buddy! Come on…At least finish your
beer. You shouldn’t waste a good beer!” Collins called after him.
The door shut.
Collins stared at the empty seat Dn had left behind.
“Yup. He is absolutely in love,” Collins concluded with anotherugh.
Dn moved quickly through the hallway,
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stepping into the private elevator that led directly to the penthouse.
His heart thumped in an unfamiliar rhythm he refused to acknowledge.
Ste had texted him.
And invited him to dinner.
He reached the top floor and walked toward his door. Before he could unlock it, his phone buzzed again.
He stopped walking.
“There <i>is </i><i>no </i>need to reply <i>now</i>. Please <i>respond </i>tomorrow. <i>Sorry </i>for <i>bothering </i>you <i>in </i>the <i>middle </i><i>of </i>the <i>night</i>.<i>” </i>
He let out a quietugh of disbelief.
“Damn it. Why is she impatient?” he muttered, unlocking the door. He entered the dark, quiet apartment.
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The sound of the door clicking shut was barely audible. He walked into the living room, staring at his phone like it was something fragile, as if the texts might vanish if he blinked for too long.
He sat down, ced the phone on the coffee table, leaned forward, then leaned back, then leaned forward again.
Dn had no idea why his heart was behaving like this. It beat too fast. Too uneven. Too warm.
It was ridiculous.
She had only asked him toe to dinner.
At her house.
With her mother.
He exhaled slowly, rubbed the back of his neck, and after several seconds of overthinking, he finally typed his reply.
<i>“</i><i>Ok</i><i>!</i>”
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He hit send and set his phone down.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He tried to suppress it, but it remained soft and impossible to hide.
Dn leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
He had no idea what Friday night would bring.
But for the first time in a long while, the thought of something unknown felt oddly exciting.
275 I’m Sorry, I Can’t!
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