TPCF 92

CHAPTER 92…………………………

“That’s a relief.”

“How’s your hand? How have you been feeling lately?”

“If you tell me where you are, I’ll tell you that too.”

There was a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Then don’t. Is it my hand? It’s your hand. It’s not like I’m the one in a hurry.”

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

A low chuckle came through the receiver.

“Alright. Then let’s both not say anything. How’s that?”

“Fine.”

“What on earth are you doing over there?”

It seemed he’d decided to stop asking where Anita was and try to get other information instead.

“I don’t know. It just… happened.”

If she were to talk about her conflict with Nathan, she’d have to start by explaining how much he hated Rutger—for no clear reason. Naturally, Anita couldn’t tell him that. After giving a short reply, she stared blankly at the wall across from her, then suddenly chuckled at the thought.

This topic was off-limits for one reason, that one for another… Would there be any topic left she could talk about with Rutger?

Come to think of it, even though they often ran into each other and spent time nearby, they’d hardly ever had a deep conversation. Their hobbies, tastes, even genders were different. They didn’t have a single thing in common—what kind of conversation could they possibly have?

This was, in fact, the first time they’d ever talked on the phone.

“That’s a pretty irresponsible thing to say, you know?”

A quiet sigh, almost a whisper, came through the line. His voice sounded so vivid that Anita felt as though he were standing right beside her.

She’d never noticed before—too distracted by his face—but now she realized his voice was actually quite nice.

Maybe it was because that voice reached not just her ears but her heart, but she felt a ticklish warmth in her chest.

“Hmm… irresponsible?”

She couldn’t delay answering forever, so she simply echoed his words back.

“Yeah, irresponsible.”

“That’s not really a word that suits me.”

“The ‘you’ I know seems a little different from the ‘you’ you think you are.”

“I know myself best.”

“I doubt that.”

“I’m telling you I’m right—why do you keep saying I’m not?”

Anita found herself getting irritated by how he nitpicked at every word she said. Without realizing it, she muttered under her breath—

“…What?”

“…Fine. I met Finian.”

At Rutger’s puzzled reaction, she hurriedly changed the subject. It turned out to be quite effective—he responded right away.

“Nigel?”

“Yeah.”

“……”

For some reason, he didn’t answer for a while. Anita began to replay their conversation in her head, wondering if she’d said something wrong, and pulled the receiver slightly away from her ear. She was about to tap it to check if the line had been cut off when his voice came again.

“He’s not the kind of guy to skip a party.”

“That’s true.”

Good—so the call wasn’t disconnected after all.

Anita, who’d been standing with her back stiffly against the wall, sat down on the floor. Through the receiver came the quiet sounds of insects, contrasting with the noise outside.

She had come here of her own accord, but suddenly she felt homesick.

If she’d stayed home, they could have talked face to face instead of like this over the phone.

“You like noisy places. You’re the one who should’ve come here, not me.”

“Just so you know, you’ve got a serious misunderstanding about me. It’s not that I like noisy places.”

He chuckled softly.

“Really? You’re always out and about, so I thought you did.”

“It’s not because I enjoy it.”

“……”

Anita bit her lip. From the weary tone in his voice, she realized she’d brought up the wrong subject. Clearly, his relationship with his foster father was still strained. Not wanting to meddle in someone else’s family issues, she decided to change the topic.

“Do you remember that time? You tore up my diary.”

“…That was… yeah, that happened. A long time ago.”

His voice trailed off. His rare flustered tone made her laugh.

“I was kind of a brat back then.”

“You were petty.”

“I was just—”

“Hot-tempered.”

Anita cut him off every time he tried to defend himself.

“…Are you drunk?”

“No?”

“Sounds like you are.”

“You’re unbelievable. Why do you always twist things like that?”