Grace Barron was pushed back a step by Oakley's playful slap. She staggered, then steadied herself, laughter blooming across her face, bright and unrestrained. The light in her eyes caught the street's glow and scattered, somehow more dazzling than a whole strip of stars.
She adored Oakley Ponciano's prickly, proud little act. One glance and she could tell it was all for show, that "I hate you" stamped across her lips completely at odds with the bubbling joy in her chest.
Tonight was the first time Grace truly realized that even the words "I hate you" could be spoken so softly, so lingeringly, that they ended up sounding like a confession.
And it wasn't as if she was saying all this just to tease Oakley into smiling. She meant it. From the moment they got together, her life had cracked open and gone from monochrome to full color.
So dead wood can have its springtime, she thought. It can bloom.
Stagnant water can clear again, can sparkle and move.
People always said that a good relationship helps both people become better versions of themselves. Maybe that was exactly what the two of them had stumbled into.
Grace moved back to Oakley's side and leaned close to her ear."Then I'll just keep being 'annoying,'" she whispered. "As long as you smile like this, I don't mind being your annoying little goblin for the rest of my life."
She would always, always love seeing Oakley smile like that—face lit up, eyes crinkled, pure delight spilling over. It reminded her of hillsides in spring, wildflowers bursting open all at once, every petal tender and vivid, the kind of beauty you instinctively want to shield with both hands.
Oakley cut her a sideways, proud little glance, her expression all mock disdain, completely unaware that the laughter in her eyes was already brimming to the point of overflowing, ready to spill out and shine over everything around them.
After a beat, Oakley suddenly snorted and laughed out loud, then said with feigned nonchalance,"Whatever you want."
Grace knew that was just Oakley's way of saying yes without admitting it. She didn't call her out. She simply reached for Oakley's hand and laced their fingers together, holding on tight, as if she were cradling the most precious treasure in the world, and they kept walking slowly forward.
In truth, to her, Oakley really was the most precious thing she had.
The night air had turned thin and chilly, but neither of them felt cold.
The two of them strolled down the street arm in arm, and it felt as if the whole world had been wrapped in a faint, gentle glow.
Past ten in the evening, the late-night street market was still humming, bright and busy as far as the eye could see. Strings of lamps overhead glimmered like a low-hanging swarm of fireflies, their hazy light spilling over the buildings and alleys, painting everything in colors that looked almost too vivid to be real, as if they'd walked into an illustrated world.
There were so many stalls here that it was impossible to look at everything properly. Grace and Oakley could only browse in rough strokes. Since they had to wake up early the next morning to watch the sunrise, they decided not to linger, and drove back to their Airbnb together.
Just as Grace finished parking the car and cut the engine, she happened to look up—and there, stepping out from the entrance, was Natalie Pierce.
Natalie was tall and slender. Even bundled in thick clothes, she still managed to look willowy. Her dark hair was gathered up with a simple hairpin, pinned in place but intentionally loose, giving her the kind of relaxed, cultured elegance that drew the eye without trying.
If a woman ever stepped straight out of a painting, Grace thought, she would probably look a lot like Natalie Pierce.
Before coming here, Natalie had asked Oakley what she thought of this Airbnb. Oakley told her it was great—perfect location, good soundproofing, tasteful decor. Five stars, no hesitation. So Natalie hadn't bothered checking other options online and simply booked a single room in the same place.
"So late at night—where are you heading?" Grace asked casually.
Natalie glanced up from her phone at the sound of her voice, and her gaze met theirs dead-on—Grace's and Oakley's, side by side.
"I think I caught a slight chill last night," she said. "My stomach's a bit off. I'm going to the pharmacy nearby to grab some medicine."
The screen of her phone went dark, the pale light it had been casting onto her face vanishing with it. One hand pressed lightly to her abdomen; with the other she pointed toward a direction down the road.
She had been about to order delivery earlier. But when she opened the map and saw how close the pharmacy was, she realized it might take longer to wait for a courier than to walk there. So she closed the app, put on her coat, and came out herself.
"Is it serious?" Oakley asked at once, a little flustered.
Natalie shook her head. The loose strands of hair trailing along her jaw swayed gently with the motion."It's okay, nothing major. Just this dull, nagging discomfort. It's fine. I'll probably sleep it off after taking something and be back to normal tomorrow."
"All right," Oakley nodded. "Just make sure you rest properly afterward. Oh—did you already plan where you're going tomorrow?"
"I just picked a few spots at random," Natalie replied. "I thought I'd start with a church around here and wander from there."
She didn't really have any place she was dying to see.
She'd long since gotten used to drifting through life. As long as she was alone, with no one else's mood or schedule to consider, she couldn't be bothered to make proper plans. She preferred the "I'll see when I get there" approach.
Oakley, at a loss, could only say,"Okay then."
She felt as if she ought to take Natalie around herself, show her some of her favorite places. But from the very beginning, Natalie had never once hinted that she wanted to tag along; if anything, she seemed determined not to intrude on Oakley and Grace. Probably didn't want to be the third wheel.
So Oakley didn't push.
They brushed past one another, ready to go their separate ways.
Yet after a few steps, Natalie slowed, then stopped entirely. She turned and looked back at them.
Sensing it, Grace paused and asked,"What's wrong?"
Natalie lowered her lashes and looked at their joined hands—Grace's and Oakley's fingers snugly intertwined. She tilted her head and smiled."I was just thinking… the two of you really do look good together. You're basically the prettiest shape love can take. The kind of couple people look at and feel… envious."
She'd heard Oakley talk about Grace so many times. Now, seeing Grace in person, she finally understood why Oakley had fallen so hard.
Girls like Grace—well-mannered, composed, warm in all the right ways—were, admittedly, hard not to like.
On paper, they couldn't be more different. But standing side by side, the two of them somehow looked perfectly harmonious.
"I agree, we are pretty good together," Oakley said, unable to stop herself from squeezing Grace's hand even tighter, as if she could climb right into Grace's arms and never come back out.
Seeing Oakley so plainly delighted, Grace's own smile deepened. She let Oakley cling and gently squeezed back.
"But hey, you shouldn't just envy other people," Oakley turned to Natalie again, gently cheering her on. "If you want it, you can find something beautiful, too. I'm sure of it."
As far as Oakley was concerned, Natalie's "stats" were almost absurdly ideal.
It just depended on whether she wanted to fall in love again.
"Something beautiful?" Natalie repeated, her brows lifting slightly. "If it were really that easy to find, the whole world wouldn't be writing songs about it. It's precisely because true love is rare that people are obsessed with praising it, isn't it?"
"Rare, sure," Oakley frowned faintly. "But it exists. You don't even roll the dice—how can you be so sure you're not one of the lucky ones?"
Natalie shook her head."Most of those fairy-tale romances that make it all the way to happily-ever-after, they're what happens when all the stars line up at once. Perfect timing, the right place, the right people. For ordinary folks, if you want a relationship to go the distance, you need to match on almost everything—how you think, how you handle money, your ambitions, your hobbies. You have to be evenly matched. Otherwise it's hard to make it work. For most people, instead of pinning their hopes on that kind of miracle, it's more important to live their own life as steadily as they can. The more you expect, the more you're set up to be disappointed."
Grace finally understood why Oakley always described Natalie as fundamentally pessimistic.
Yes, Natalie saw things clearly. Sometimes too clearly. But she always seemed to lean toward the darker side of whatever she was examining, and it made her disappointment deeper, heavier.
This was someone, Grace thought, who had truly lived through something shattering. Something so painful that she would rather grind her teeth to dust than tell the story to anyone.
"So," Grace said quietly, at last joining the conversation, "you see yourself as ordinary, right?"
"Of course," Natalie smiled, the corners of her mouth tipping up. "Nothing but ordinary. The most ordinary of ordinary people."
Grace nodded."Maybe you are. But if you're in a relationship that's healthy, even if you really are ordinary, you won't feel that way. Because to the person who loves you, you're the most singular person in the world."
"I know," Natalie's smile didn't falter. "But that kind of 'singular' feeling usually comes with an expiration date. It's hard to keep it going for a whole lifetime. Put differently: when they love you, you're the best person on earth."
Her voice cooled almost imperceptibly.
"And by the time they don't love you anymore, the problems start. Especially the differences in how you think—that alone is enough to crush everything between you. Both of you believe you've given so much. Both of you feel misunderstood, unappreciated, convinced the other one is ungrateful, a traitor. In the end, not only do you get called dramatic for being broke, you might literally die on an operating table and they'd barely blink. Might even wish you'd hurry up and stop breathing."
When she said that last line, Natalie's smile twisted into something strange.
She looked like a marionette, a puppet held upright by invisible strings, its painted-on smile maintained by sheer force of habit.
She nodded once, almost to herself, and repeated softly,"Yes. They'd be glad to see you die."
Grace's brows pulled together, her fingers curling into her palm.
Even as an outsider, she could feel how deeply those words cut. The damage they described was the kind that didn't just bruise—it ran straight through the heart.
For the longest time, she'd thought Jessica Brooks's story had been a hard one to swallow. But compared to what Natalie had just hinted at, Jessica might not have been anywhere near the worst of it.
"So," Natalie said, a bitter little laugh escaping her, "romance… I think I'll pass. I'll just enjoy watching the two of you be disgustingly sweet. Falling in love is more fun as a spectator sport anyway. I'm doing just fine on my own. People aren't snakes—you don't get to keep shedding your skin over and over. Once in a lifetime is already enough. Any more and you come apart."
Natalie rarely spoke this much. Tonight, though, it was like some hidden floodgate had opened.
The streetlamp's halo dropped into her water-clear eyes, misting over into a thin shimmer of sorrow. Even though her smile never left her face, her expression still looked like a mountain valley veiled in drifting fog—no matter how the wind blew, that sorrow wouldn't disperse.
In this moment she looked fragile, breakable, something anyone would want to protect. Like a flower snapped at the stem—still beautiful, but with a sadness that made you fear it might wilt completely at any second.
Just as her eyes were on the verge of filling, she reined herself in and forced her composure back into place, smiling again."Sorry. I'm rambling."
Why am I like this, she scolded herself silently. Haven't I learned?
She'd exposed the softest, weakest part of herself yet again, knowing full well that once it's exposed, there's always a chance someone will someday forge it into a blade and drive it straight back into her.
But Oakley, she thought as she glanced at her, isn't that kind of person. She wouldn't. Probably wouldn't.
"Natalie…" Oakley suddenly realized that whatever Natalie had lived through was far worse than anything she'd imagined.
That line—"even if you die on the operating table, they'll think you deserved it"—Oakley didn't know if Natalie had read it somewhere online, or if it was something carved from her own life.
Her gut told her it was the latter.
And faced with that, Oakley had no idea what she could possibly say. In the end she could only sigh.
If she remembered correctly, Natalie had once flatly denied ever having been in a relationship.For someone to reject their own history so completely that they wished they could carve it out and throw it away… that only happened when the pain was almost unbearable.
"So you're planning to stay single for the rest of your life?" Grace asked softly.
Some things, if you never turned around and looked at them, would stay lodged inside you as knots that never loosened. Time alone would not fix them. Leave them long enough, and it would become harder and harder to love and be loved. Eventually, even if you didn't want to be alone, your life would calcify into solitude.
"Well," Natalie said, eyes lifting to the scattered stars in the night sky, as if she were weighing her answer against them, "I've been thinking… I'll probably end up in a convent one day."
The thought made her laugh again, this time with a small, helpless amusement.
"That works too," Grace said. "A quiet life is a secret dream for a lot of people these days."
"Exactly."
Natalie gave a short laugh in reply. "All right, enough. I'd better get going."
She hooked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and straightened up."I have a pharmacy to find."
"Okay…" Oakley murmured.
They watched until Natalie's figure disappeared around the corner. Even then, Oakley still hadn't quite recovered.
Today had been… a lot.
She'd always known Natalie was carrying some unpleasant memories around. But this was the first time, since the day they met, that she'd seen Natalie look like this.
It stung, right behind her ribs.
After a long while, Grace let out a sigh of her own.
"I always thought Natalie had the kind of face that says she's destined for a convent someday," Oakley said quietly. "Didn't expect her to actually be considering it."
She still remembered the first impression she'd had when she saw Natalie.
It wasn't that she'd thought she looked like a nun. More like an otherworldly woman from some old story, untouched by anything as mundane as laundry or rent. She'd felt like someone who'd descended to the human world just to get her heart broken and then leave again.
"When people are tormented enough, I guess they all start craving some quiet corner of the world to retreat to," Grace mused. After a pause she added, "But I don't think she'll actually go."
"Huh?" Oakley looked up at her. "Why not?"
Grace shook her head."Just a feeling."
They hardly knew each other—had barely interacted at all. Grace couldn't claim to understand Natalie. But she somehow had the sense that Natalie's feelings for Sabrina Myers were not as mild and casual as she pretended.
If she truly felt nothing, surely she'd be more at ease. Why then was she suddenly questioning whether love existed, whether ordinary people could ever really find something genuine?
And if Sabrina's appearance alone was enough to make her circle these questions over and over again… then maybe, Grace thought, Natalie cared far more than she dared admit.
Because she cared, the scars she'd tried so carefully to bury had been torn open all over again.
Still—Grace was nothing more than a bystander. If some things weren't hers to pry into, she wouldn't. She couldn't.
"Fine," Oakley said at last, looping her arm through Grace's again as they made their way back toward their room. "Anyway, you're not allowed to run off to a convent."
Grace blinked, momentarily thrown, then laughed."Why would I?"
They were still in the honeymoon phase of their marriage. She was head over heels. Why on earth would she abandon her gorgeous wife and go lock herself away in some cloister?
You'd have to be out of your mind to do that. She had to admit, Oakley's imagination really did take some wild turns. What a waste it would be if she didn't do something creative with it.
Oakley didn't answer right away. She pulled out the key card and swiped it at the lock.
The door clicked open. As Oakley pushed it in, the curtain by the window stirred, rippling as if it had caught a breeze from another world, carrying with it a faint, clean scent that wafted into the room.
Oakley slid the key card into its slot and flicked on the lights. Only then did she turn back to Grace."I can't help it," she said. "For the longest time back then, you really did feel like someone who'd disappear into a convent one day."
"Huh?" Grace stared at her. She truly hadn't expected Oakley's first impression of her to be this… elaborate.
"Ms. Ponciano," Grace said, half exasperated and half amused, "you really are something. Can I ask why you thought that?"
"It's simple," Oakley said.
She took Grace's hand and walked backward, slowly drawing her into the room with her, her head tilted, eyes laughing."It's just… that vibe you have. Like you're destined to take vows someday."
"So I have the… nun aesthetic, is that what you're saying?" Grace arched a brow. "Or is it monk? I feel like I should get the terminology right."
"That is not what I meant!" Oakley protested, frowning as she gave Grace's hand a sharp squeeze.
She hadn't meant to use that much force. It made Grace wince, her brows knitting for an instant before she smiled again.
"Then what did you mean?" she asked.
"You just gave off this… 'above it all' feeling. Like someone who doesn't care for earthly delights. Like a woman who belongs in a quiet stone chapel, not in the middle of… all this," Oakley said, looking her up and down. "Who knew that wasn't true at all?"
She wasn't sure if it was because she herself had too much charm, or because Grace was just easy to tease into blushing.
"Not true?" Grace took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
With that small movement, the space between their bodies seemed to shrink to almost nothing. Oakley lifted her gaze and found herself staring straight at Grace's mouth.
Full, defined, impossibly kissable. Oakley loved every version of her—this one especially.
"Are you really going to pretend you don't know?" Oakley met her eyes, looping a strand of Grace's hair around her finger and twisting it slowly, a hint of playfulness flitting across her face.
Grace's lips curled."Maybe I don't."
Her eyes had gone darker, softer, edges blurred with warmth. The shadows of her lashes fell across her irises like the faint trace of a hook, pulling at something deep inside Oakley's chest.
It didn't take more than a few seconds of holding that gaze before Oakley felt her throat go dry.
She slipped two fingers into the collar of Grace's shirt and tugged, drawing her closer.
Grace's body tilted, leaning down toward her.
As a few strands of Grace's hair slipped forward, framing her face, Oakley deliberately lifted her chin and inched toward her mouth, her voice soft as silk."Oh? Are you sure about that?"
Her tone was sweet and lazy, each word as light as willow branches skimming across the surface of a lake, sending out ripples of warmth.
Grace's lashes lowered. Up close, Oakley could see every detail—her full red lips, the faint curve of her lashes, her eyelids half-lowered, all of it coming together into a picture that was almost unbearably tempting.
Their mouths brushed—barely, almost not at all. Their breaths mingled. Grace's lips parted in a small, crooked smile."I'm not sure," she murmured.
Then she tipped Oakley's chin up and kissed her.
It was a soft touch at first, a whisper of warmth at the edge of Oakley's mouth that sent a shiver running down her spine, raising goosebumps along her arms.
Grace paused, then kissed her again, this time cupping her waist and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss by increments.
The room's light blurred at the edges, turning hazy around them. Oakley made a small sound in her throat, helpless and breathless, her hands sliding up Grace's back, gripping tighter and tighter as she answered the kiss in kind.
Under that gentle, insistent heat, Oakley's thoughts dissolved. It felt like falling, down and down, into something bottomless.
After a long stretch of time, they finally parted.
Grace held Oakley's face in her hands, studying her eyes with a look that fluctuated between tender and dazed, and laughed softly."I really, really like you."
Oakley's dimples appeared, delicate and deep at the corners of her smile."Me too. I like you so much, Grace Barron. More than I know what to do with."
Entwined as they were, it felt as though time itself had stopped for them.
She could have stayed like this, in Grace's arms, until the end of the world.
Ever since they got married, Grace had discovered something strange about herself: she had become a full-blown romantic. A textbook case.
Once upon a time, she'd sworn she'd never fall in love. Now she was living proof that vows like that meant absolutely nothing.
They were still wrapped around each other when Grace's phone buzzed in her pocket.
Reluctantly, she stepped back and fished it out. One glance at the screen told her it was a message from Sabrina Myers.
Do you two want barbecue? Sabrina had written. If you're up for it, we can set up a grill and have a little barbecue party tomorrow night.
Grace looked up from her phone and turned to Oakley."Sabrina's asking if we want barbecue tomorrow night. She says if we do, she'll set up a little barbecue party at her place."
Oakley loved that kind of thing—good food, good company, a little chaos. Add in the fact that barbecue was one of her favorite meals and there was no way she was turning it down.
"Yes," she said instantly. "Let's do it."
Grace typed back:Sounds great. Got a place in mind? Where are we grilling?
Sabrina replied:Just come to mine. I rented a house here for the month, with a yard. I checked—the place has everything, including a grill. Thought it'd be fun.
Grace:Perfect. What time? Send me your address.
Sabrina:OK.
Grace hesitated, then added:Do you want me to check if Natalie wants to come? She doesn't seem to have much to do here on her own.
This time, Sabrina didn't reply right away.
It was as if she'd vanished.
Grace was just about to put her phone down when the message finally arrived, fashionably late:Since you've already brought it up, do whatever you think is best.
Even through a screen, Grace could practically hear the tone behind the words.
Given how long they'd been friends, she could easily translate Sabrina-speak.
It meant: Yes.
Grace sent back a simple:Got it.
Then she checked the time and turned to Oakley again."It's getting late. How about we wash up and go to bed, and then get up early tomorrow for the sunrise?"
"Yes, please," Oakley said, already looking forward to it.
A sunrise and a barbecue in the same day—what could possibly be better?
She turned away to rummage through her suitcase for her pajamas.
Just as Oakley was about to head into the bathroom, her phone lit up with a new message—from Natalie.
Oakley, I forgot to pack any face masks. Do you have one I could borrow?
Sure, Oakley replied after a brief pause. She added their room number and hit send.
Then she stood, opened her suitcase, and began digging out a few extra masks.
While she was doing a mental inventory of what she had, there came a knock on the door.
Since Oakley's hands were full, Grace went to answer it.
She pulled open the door to find Natalie's calm, clear-cut features framed in the hallway light.
"I came for the face mask," Natalie said.
"Come in," Grace answered, stepping aside, opening the door wider for her.
Natalie walked in, talking as she went."It's ridiculous. I could swear I remember putting them in my bag, but when I just checked—nothing. Makes me wonder if I'm headed for early-onset dementia."
"It's fine, really," Oakley said, shaking her head as she straightened up, face mask in hand. She stepped over and stopped beside Natalie. "How many do you want?"
"Just one is fine." Natalie took it from her, then added, "I'm running low at home anyway. I'll go out tomorrow and buy a few more."
"Okay," Oakley said, tucking the rest back into her suitcase.
Natalie lifted the mask slightly, gesturing toward the door."I'll head back to my room then."
"Sure!" Oakley said.
She'd barely turned around before Grace spoke up."Natalie, wait."
Natalie paused and looked back, brows arching in curiosity."Yeah?"
"Tomorrow night Sabrina's organizing a barbecue," Grace said. "You should come. The more the merrier. What do you think?"
Natalie's heart skipped, just for a second. Her eyes widened a fraction. The hand holding the sheet mask tightened almost imperceptibly.
Sabrina's face flickered across her mind. Again.
Her thoughts tangled, threads crossing over one another so many times she couldn't follow them all. She had told herself—firmly—that she should keep her distance.
Everyone knew, if you wanted to sever all possibility with someone, you had to be ruthless. Turn down every chance to see them, to talk, to share the same air.
Give it enough time and you'd become strangers as a matter of course.
And yet, standing here, Natalie realized there was a tiny rip in the fabric of her resolve. A small tear in the wall she'd built, and through it, a draft of something wild and uncertain was seeping in.
"Natalie?" Oakley asked when the silence stretched, her voice gentler now. "What do you think? Want to come with us?"