As work in Bangkok wound down, Eric, a friend of Fiona's, offered to treat everyone to dinner to mark the end of the trip. Yeh knew him well, they had met several times before. He ran a successful advertising agency in Bangkok and owned numerous properties—sharp, outgoing, the kind of person who could effortlessly fill any silence in a room.
The restaurant was tucked away on a quiet soi in Sukhumvit, a highly-rated finep dining establishment. Dusk had just fallen, and the warm yellow lights at the entrance were already on, wrapping the building in a soft glow. When they entered, Fiona and Eric were already seated side by side, having seemingly prepared the atmosphere in advance.
Yeh scanned the table layout, and for a split second, her nerves kicked in almost instinctively. She did not want Lin sitting opposite to Eric.
The thought came so fast that Yeh didn't have time to analyze why, but her body moved first. "Why don't you sit on the inside, by the window? You can see the view better."
Her tone was natural, the reason was logical—an ordinary arrangement, nothing more.
But Lin looked at her and smiled softly. Her voice was gentle, yet carried an unhurried certainty that brooked no argument. "You sit there. Aren't you the one who loves watching the scenery?"
Yeh almost insisted, but held back under Lin's gaze. The feeling was subtle—not exactly being contradicted, but rather being seen through just a little, then gently guided back into place.
In the end, the seating was arranged as Lin preferred. She sat across from Eric, and Yeh took the seat to her right.
It was the first time Eric met Lin. He smiled as he introduced himself, his tone easy and lightly flirtatious. "I've heard from Fiona how talented you are, but I didn't expect you to be this beautiful too."
The words landed like a small stone, yet they sent unnecessary ripples through Yeh's chest. She knew perfectly well that compliments like this were standard in such settings, even a form of basic politeness. In the past, she wouldn't have batted an eye. But right now, the discomfort was real, and completely illogical.
It suddenly hit her—she cared. Not about Eric, but about who had the right to approach Lin so naturally.
The moment the thought surfaced, she instinctively reined in her emotions, reminding herself sharply: You have no right to be jealous.
Strangely enough, if it had been Jing, she wouldn't have felt this way. She had long accepted their closeness as a given, even accepting it calmly. She had almost assumed, that Lin and Jing belonged together. If Lin liked her, Yeh would have been happy for her. But when it was a man, the unease felt far more tangible, and far harder to justify.
She pushed the thought away.
The dinner atmosphere quickly warmed up. Eric was a natural conversationalist, moving seamlessly from industry topics to cities, to life experiences, the flow never breaking. Lin was her usual charming self—answering, responding, throwing in the occasional joke, keeping the conversation light and engaging.
Yeh knew this was just who she was. She treated everyone this way. Yeh had always known that.
Yet seeing it happen right in front of her eyes made the reality sharper, harder to ignore.
Dishes arrived one by one, beautifully presented and delicious. Yeh picked up her chopsticks, took a bite, and set them down again. Her movements remained poised, but her mind was elsewhere.
Her attention was being pulled, almost against her will, toward the easy, fluid dynamic across the table.
A disturbing realization dawned on her: Lin's gentleness wasn't reserved solely for her. It wasn't a new fact, but in this moment, it stung.
She took a sip of water, forcing herself to slow down. Quickly, she tried to rationalize it with logic: Of course she is liked by many people, that's normal. Her charm isn't something that belongs to only one person. And I... I never intended to cross that line anyway.
The conclusions were sound, yet they didn't erase the knot in her chest.
She knew she was jealous, and she knew how absurd it was. The word surfaced, and she almost denied it instantly—
What right do I have? I said myself, I don't like women in real life. Besides, Jing is her partner. If anyone has the right to feel this way, it's her.
And yet, the emotion was there, real and present. It didn't need her acknowledgment, and it wouldn't vanish just because she denied it.
She stopped trying to explain it away, simply pressing the feeling down deep inside. She continued to participate in the conversation, nodding and smiling, looking exactly as she always did.
Only she knew that a slight crack in her control had already appeared.