The Quiet Contract

Over Thinking

Jennie POV

I went home that night, my thoughts a storm of panic and frustration. The moment I stepped through the door, I kicked off my heels and threw myself onto the couch, gripping my phone like it held all the answers I desperately needed.

Every few minutes, I glanced at the screen. Nothing. No missed calls, no texts from Lisa.

Was Rosé telling her right now? Was Lisa angry? Would she even care?

I couldn't shake the image of Rosé's face—stoic, unreadable, like she'd seen right through me. What if she told Lisa I was with someone? What would Lisa even think if she found out I was at the club tonight?

My fingers hovered over the screen. Should I text Lisa? Something casual? Maybe just a check-in to feel her out? I shook my head. No. That would look suspicious. I needed to act like nothing had happened, like I wasn't the one spiraling.

I stood and paced the living room, trying to justify myself.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I muttered under my breath. "This is just an arrangement. A stupid arrangement. Lisa knows that."

But even as I said it, the words felt hollow.

Why was I panicking? Why did it matter what Lisa thought? She wasn't my real lover. I wasn't even... hers.

I sat back down, burying my face in my hands. My heart was racing.

The kiss replayed in my mind for the hundredth time this day—her warm lips, the way her hands hesitated but didn't pull away, the unexplainable pull I felt when I looked at her.

No. I pushed the thought away.

"This is just because I haven't been with anyone for a while," I said out loud, like saying it would make it true. "That's all it is. Lisa means nothing to me. She's... she's just my business partner."

But then why did I feel like this? Why couldn't I stop glancing at my phone, waiting for her name to pop up? Why did the thought of her being upset with me make my chest ache?

I groaned and tossed my phone onto the coffee table, forcing myself to stop staring at it. But even as I tried to push Lisa out of my mind, I couldn't. Her face, her voice, the way she held me that night—it all lingered.

I leaned back, closing my eyes, trying to steady my thoughts. But deep down, I knew this was more than just the arrangement. And it terrified me.

I sat there in the dim light of my living room, the quietness of the night making my thoughts louder. My phone taunted me from the coffee table, its screen dark and still. I felt restless, my leg bouncing up and down as I fought the urge to grab it again.

What if Lisa knew? What if Rosé had already told her everything? Would she even care? Lisa had always been calm, composed, but would this push her over the edge? Would she finally confront me?

The thought of Lisa being disappointed... it stung more than I wanted to admit.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, running my hands through my hair.

"What does it even matter?" I muttered to myself. "She's not my real lover. This is all for show, for business. Why does it matter what Lisa thinks?"

But no matter how many times I told myself that, the nagging feeling in my chest wouldn't go away.