The One Who Waited A Second Chance in Paris

It was Mamie.

Barnaby didn't push her away. He let her press close, and the look he gave me was as flat as ever.

“Mamie invited me over for dinner. Want to come?”

“No thanks.”

I shook my head.

No wonder he hadn't touched his food at the party. He'd been saving his appetite for a cozy dinner for two.

Mamie put on a show of surprise.

“Oh, sorry, Felicia! I didn't even see you there.”

Then she turned those big pleading eyes on Barnaby. “Team Leader Dickerson, it's pouring. Maybe we should do dinner another day so you can walk Felicia home first.”

“I'll just wait till the rain stops.”

“Don't worry about me, really. I'll be fine.”

She looked so considerate, so sensible. Barnaby's face softened with concern.

“No way. I can't let you do that.”

“I keep my word. If I promised someone something, I follow through.”

Barnaby said.

“But……what about Felicia?”

Mamie snuck a glance at me, wearing the perfect expression of someone afraid I'd be angry.

“Then just make a run for it!”

Barnaby tossed the umbrella toward me, grabbed Mamie's hand, and charged into the rain.

Laughter and shrieking.

Louder than the downpour.

It pulled up a memory. Another rainy day, years ago, when Barnaby had said the same thing to me.

When he'd grabbed my hand and we'd run through the rain together, laughing just like that.

I picked up the umbrella and walked home with my head down.

I couldn't explain why my fingers were trembling.

Before, whenever I went home early, rain or shine, Barnaby would always text to check in.

This time, I showered, picked up my phone, and found nothing from him.

What I found instead was Mamie's social media post.

【When two people like each other, a little wind and rain can't scare them.】

Someone had commented below：“Ooh, you're dating someone? Who?? Give us a hint!”

Mamie replied：“Hehe, B ”

B. Barnaby?

I turned it over in my head, and something sour and bitter rose in my chest.

Willing to run through the rain together.

How could that not be love?

Since we'd moved in together, Barnaby and I had a rule: home before ten.

Tonight, he didn't walk through the door until eleven.

He was wearing a completely different set of clothes that fit him perfectly, carrying the clean scent of someone else's detergent.

For a split second I didn't recognize him. I took a deep breath, picked up the application form, and held it out to him. ：“Professor Lawrence said to think it over. An opportunity like this doesn't come around often.”

He took the form. And tore it to shreds.

I stood frozen.

I didn't understand why his reaction was this extreme.

“You know how hard Mamie's been working. Why do you keep going after her? Talking behind her back to the professor?”

Barnaby looked up, glaring at me, and pressed harder：“Does bullying a younger girl really make you feel good about yourself?”

None of it made the slightest bit of sense.

“Barnaby!”

“You're saying I went after her? Badmouthed her? What proof do you have? I've never done any of that!”

“Do I need proof?”

He let out a scornful laugh and said coldly：“Mamie's lab report got kicked back by the professor. She got chewed out!”

“You were the only one with the professor at the time. If you didn't sabotage it, who did?”

I almost laughed at how absurd it was.

“Ha. I'm the one who guided her through writing that report. How could it get rejected? And you still have the nerve to say it wasn't you?”

“Go to the professor tomorrow. Clear it up. Get the report approved.”

Barnaby added.

This time it was practically an order.

I took a deep breath and finally spoke：“We've been together four years. Do you really not know what kind of person I am?”

Everyone around us knew I'd never gone running to anyone with gossip—that I was the one who stayed late covering for people on the team, cleaning up after younger students' mistakes. And he was standing here accusing me.