The Red String Between Us Part II: Frayed Threads

第5章 Rosewater and Restraint

The line had gone dead, but Aya's voice lingered in Eden's ears long after. She sat in her office, staring at the screen though the words blurred, her mind replaying the softness of Aya's laughter. The closeness she'd heard in the background, that she couldn't quite dismiss.

Still, she knew better. Jealousy wasn't a luxury she could afford—not here, not now. She had clawed her way toward composure, earned respect through restraint, and she would not unravel over a shadow of doubt. Kenji had given her no reason to question him. If anything, it was her own heart she mistrusted—the way it leapt, the way it lingered. They weren't exclusive, and she reminded herself of that fact. It had barely been six months since she ended a three–year engagement, and diving headlong into possessiveness would only blur the strength she had reclaimed. So she pressed the sting deep down, smoothing it over with logic, convincing herself this was the only mature way forward.

The days that followed held their usual rhythm—texts exchanged, calls made, short moments stolen between meetings. And though Eden's words were warm, there was a subtle difference, a quiet restraint in her tone. She laughed when she should, teased him when he expected it, but there was always a thin layer of distance, carefully concealed. She was determined to appear unshaken, mature, unphased. but she lacked in communication when its came to matters of the heart.

Kenji, perceptive as ever, noticed. She could feel it in the brief pauses on the other end of the line, in the way his voice softened as though coaxing her to let down a guard she pretended wasn't there. But he didn't press, and she didn't bend.

On the second evening, during one of their late calls, Kenji's voice shifted—casual on the surface, but carrying something beneath.
"Aya stopped by my office earlier this week," he said, as though it were nothing more than an administrative detail. "She had questions about some projects in my U.S. portfolio. It wasn't exactly the best timing..." he trailed off, letting the sentence hang just long enough.

Eden hummed politely, her response calm. "I see."

"She's... persistent," he added, almost under his breath, but his tone was neutral, even measured. A subtle offering, slipped into the space between them, as if to explain without admitting he felt the need to.

Eden smiled into the silence, though he couldn't see it. "Well, she always struck me as ambitious." And that was all she gave him. Polite, mature, surface-level—while underneath, the edges of her thoughts frayed.

By the fourth evening, her doorbell startled her. Eden had just stepped out of a rose-scented bubble bath, her damp curls clinging softly against the nape of her neck, glistening from droplets that trailed down her skin. She tugged her plush robe tighter around her, the fabric still flecked with soap bubbles as she padded to the door.

When she opened it, Kenji stood there—sharp in his tailored coat, the faint chill of Hokkaido's lingering winter still clinging to him. His eyes flickered instantly over her state, pausing at the sight of her damp hair, the faint sheen of warmth still radiating from her bath. For a moment, his composure faltered, the silence between them carrying something heavier than his usual restraint.

"I'm sorry, I should've called first," he said lightly, though his gaze lingered a beat too long.

"You're always welcome," she replied, soft but short, pulling her robe closed as she stepped aside. Her voice carried warmth, even if beneath it her mind was still tangled in the memory of Aya's presence.

Kenji entered, his eyes lingering on her as though caught between concern and something unspoken. He studied her for a moment, almost expecting the sharp edge of jealousy, some accusation hidden behind her composure. When it didn't come, he exhaled softly and moved forward.

"I wanted to tell you in person," he began. "I have to travel to the U.S. this week. The California office needs me to finalize an acquisition. It's unavoidable."

Eden tilted her head slightly, her smile calm, steady. "That's understandable, It sounds important."

His eyes searched hers again, almost wary. "I know it's close timing for so many events," he added carefully.

For a beat, her heart tightened, but she only shrugged gently, keeping her tone even, reassuring. "It's fine. You have work to do, and I understand that. Really." My birthday and the Gala lingering in my mind as I said this.

Her words were kind, almost too kind, as though polished smooth to leave nothing sharp for him to catch on. Kenji gave a faint nod, still studying her, perhaps half-expecting the jealousy she refused to show. Instead, she smiled again, soft and steady, as though nothing at all had unsettled her.

He stood in the entryway of her foyer, his eyes tracing the curve of her wet arms, the line of her legs, the damp curls clinging to her neck and shoulders. For a moment, he seemed almost apologetic, as if embarrassed by the way he couldn't look away.

I stepped closer, bridging the small distance between us. "Do what you have to do." I said, my voice soft. "I'll let you know when I land... I'll stay in touch," he murmured, his fingers grazing my hand one last time as he reached for the door. He picked up my hand with his free one and kissed the back.

I rested my palm lightly on the frame, reluctant to let him go. "Safe travels," I replied, my voice carrying both calm and a quiet ache.

He paused at the threshold, looking back at me one more time, and for a long moment, neither of us moved. It was a goodbye that lingered, heavy with unspoken longing and the unacknowledged pull between us, before he finally stepped out into the night, leaving me alone with the fading warmth of his presence.