Again

Chapter 07

The glow of the phone illuminated Wayne's face as he slumped on his couch, staring at the screen where Rhea's lively eyes sparkled with joy. The sound of her voice filled the room, full of excitement and warmth.

"Wayne, my love! Guess what? I got us tickets to see the Arctic Monkeys!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing through the screen. Her energy was contagious, but tonight, Wayne felt heavy—he couldn't summon the excitement she deserved.

"That's... that's great," Wayne replied, though the words felt thick on his tongue. He tried to smile, but the enthusiasm he meant to project withered, leaving behind an awkward pause. It was all wrong—he knew it, she could feel it.

Rhea's eyebrows knit together, the brightness dimming in her voice. "Oh?" Her confusion was palpable, and Wayne could almost see the gears turning in her head. "What's going on, Wayne? I wasn't expecting that reaction."

Wayne lowered his gaze, tracing invisible patterns on the couch with his fingertips. "I... Ashe invited me to the concert," he admitted softly. "I already said yes."

Silence. It hit hard, like a cold wind seeping through the cracks. Rhea's face froze in stunned disbelief, the excitement evaporating. She blinked, as if trying to process the words. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a note of incredulity. "You... what?" She swallowed. "Ashe? As in, the Ashe?"

Wayne nodded, bracing himself for what was to come. "Yeah," he said quietly, the word hanging in the air like something fragile and easily shattered.

Rhea stared at him through the screen, her jaw slightly clenched. But instead of launching into a tirade, she let out a controlled breath. "Hold on. Don't say anything more. I'm coming over. Wait for me." And before Wayne could respond, the call ended with a decisive click.

---

Half an hour later, Wayne heard a sharp knock at the door, followed by the distinct sound of keys jangling—Rhea had a key to his place. Of course, she did. She burst through the door, her hair wild from the wind, eyes full of questions.

"Make me some tea," she demanded, breezing past him into the living room as if it were her own home. Wayne smiled faintly—this was Rhea, unfiltered, no-nonsense. He retreated to the kitchen to boil the water, his heart thumping in his chest. When he returned, she had already sunk into the couch, waiting like a queen on her throne.

Wayne handed her the steaming cup, which she accepted with a grateful nod. She took a slow, measured sip, her gaze never leaving his. "Okay, Wayne. Spill," she said, her voice low, deliberate, like she was preparing for something unpleasant.

Wayne hesitated, leaning against the wall. He wanted to explain, but even the words felt foreign, like they didn't belong to him. "We bumped into each other at work," he started, his voice halting. "I didn't even know he was working for the same company. At first, I... panicked. But he apologized, and I—well, we ended up having dinner."

"Dinner?" Rhea interjected; her disbelief palpable. She set her cup down, her movements sharp and deliberate. "You, having dinner with Ashe? The guy who—" She stopped herself, but the tension in her voice was unmistakable.

"Yeah," Wayne interrupted, trying to regain control of the story. "Look, it wasn't like that. I mean, I was cautious, but he seemed... different. He apologized for everything, and I told him what I needed to say. We had a real, mature conversation. And I don't know, Rhea, I just... I forgave him." He exhaled, a weight leaving his chest. "For me, not for him."

Rhea's eyes narrowed, processing his words. "For you?" she echoed, her voice softening but still laced with doubt. "I get it, Wayne. I do. But after everything, it just feels... fast." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "You used to freeze up at the mention of his name, and now you are friends?"

Wayne looked away, his fingers tapping the back of his chair. "I don't want to be stuck anymore, Rhea. I want to move on. And you're the one who told me I should."

Rhea fell silent, her expression thoughtful, as if weighing his words against the history they both knew too well. After what felt like an eternity, she finally rose and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around him. The hug was tight, grounding, like an anchor in a storm.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered, her voice soft. "But if anything happens, I'm here. Promise me, you'll tell me."

Wayne squeezed his eyes shut, nodding into her shoulder. "I promise."

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in quiet solidarity, before Rhea pulled back. The tension between them seemed to soften, but there was still something unresolved in her eyes.

"What about the tickets I bought?" she asked, her lips quirking into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Wayne shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "You could always invite Ben."

"I already did," she replied, straightening herself. "I'll probably invite Arthur too."

Wayne laughed. "How about Jake and Esther?"

At the mention of Jake, Rhea stiffened. "Esther's in Paris," she said flatly, brushing off the first question. Then her face darkened. "But let's not talk about Jake."

Wayne's curiosity was piqued instantly. He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. "What's going on with Jake?"

Rhea sighed dramatically, as if surrendering to an inevitable confession. "Okay, fine. I had a blind date a few weeks ago."

"Yeah?"

"It was with Jake," she admitted, almost sheepishly. "My cousin set us up, not knowing we were friends. It was... awkward as hell."

Wayne's eyebrows shot up. "Jake? Our Jake?"

Rhea's cheeks flushed, and Wayne grinned. "Oh my god, did something happen?"

"No!" Rhea exclaimed, a little too loudly. She crossed her fingers, waving them in front of her face like a shield. "Absolutely not."

Wayne's smirk deepened. "You're blushing."

Rhea groaned, covering her face. "Fine! Okay, yes. Something happened. But don't say anything. Seriously."

"I won't," Wayne promised, crossing his heart with a playful grin. "Your secret's safe with me."

As the laughter faded, an uncomfortable quiet settled over them. Rhea's eyes lingered on Wayne's face, sensing there was still more left unspoken. "But... enough about me," she said, her voice dropping a tone. "What about Ben? Have you two talked?"

Wayne froze. His heart thudded in his chest as flashes of that night—Ben's lingering touch, the almost kiss—flooded his mind. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, we're good," he said, keeping his tone as even as possible.

Rhea's gaze narrowed, scrutinizing him. "Wayne, is that all?"

Wayne forced a smile, but his thoughts were a tangled mess. He wasn't ready to share the confusing new feelings swirling inside him—feelings he didn't fully understand himself. "There's nothing more to it."

Rhea watched him for a beat longer, unconvinced but knowing better than to push. "Okay," she said softly, retreating into her own thoughts. "But you know where to find me, right? If there's ever more to it?"

Wayne nodded, grateful for her restraint. "Yeah, I know."

The two of them sat in comfortable silence, the weight of their shared histories and the unknown paths ahead of them lingering in the air. Wayne took a deep breath, raising his empty teacup toward the ceiling.

"Here's to moving forward," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Rhea smiled, raising her own cup in a mock toast. "To moving forward."

"Can I stay over tonight?" she asked after a pause.

Wayne chuckled softly. "Of course."