Page 101 of The Friend Zone Experiment

Let me crawl in a hole and die,was what Renee would have said, if she could. She shook her head, or tried to.

Either none of this got through, or Ket Siong wasn’t inclined to respect her wishes, for once.

“Come on,” he said.

He raised her to her feet, his touch light but decisive, andwalked her to a bench. The wool of his coat was scratchy against her arm. She could feel the solid warmth of him through it.

She collapsed onto the bench. Ket Siong moved the arm that had been holding her up, letting her fold over onto herself.

“I’m going to count,” he said. “Try to focus on my voice.”

He started counting, unexpectedly, in Mandarin. “Yi. Er. San. Si. Wu…”

Renee’s Mandarin wasn’t great, despite the Chinese for Business course she’d taken a few years ago. But numbers she could follow.

“Liu. Qi. Ba. Jiu. Shi.”

More than the numbers, it was his voice she clung to—deep, gentle, infinitely familiar. She followed the thread of it until her breathing evened out and her chest unlocked, her heartbeat slowing.

When she could feel all her limbs again, she said, “Sorry.” Her voice came out as a croak. Her mouth was dry.

“Here.” Ket Siong held out a water bottle, then paused. “I’ve drunk from it. But I could get you…” He looked around.

It was properly dark now. They were by the Serpentine, its waters illuminated by the yellow glow of the night sky, reflecting the million lights of London. Trees made irregular patches of shadow on the mirrored surface.

During the day, there were booths where Ket Siong could have bankrupted himself to buy a bottle of mineral water. They’d be closed now.

A hush lay over the park. There was no one around, for once. It felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“It’s OK,” said Renee, and took a swig from his bottle. She felt drained and trembly, light-headed.

She handed the bottle back to him. “Thanks.”

Ket Siong put it away in his messenger bag. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” said Renee, and burst into tears.

She wasn’t planning on doing that, or on explaining herself. The moment she was able to pull herself together, she was going to get out of here, hide away in her flat, and never show her face to the world again.

Except Ket Siong put his arm around her, as naturally as though it was a thing they did. She found herself leaning into his warmth, talking.

“We won the deal,” she said. “With Freshview.”

“I thought you wanted the deal.”

“That was before you told me—before I knew—” Renee’s voice hitched. She drew her arm across her eyes. “I don’t know what to do. The pitch was bad enough. Virtu’s a mess. If I have to work on nailing the deal down, I’ll never get to launch Virtu at Home, and our CNY collection is fucked. But I’m stuck. Freshview’s made their choice, and now you hate me, and Chahaya’s going to be partnering with the company that killed your friend—”

“That’s not right,” said Ket Siong. “I don’t hate you.” He paused. “And Stephen’s alive. We found him.”

“What?”Ket Siong was blurry; her eyes were still full of tears. Renee blinked, scrubbing them. “You found him? How? Where has he been?”

“He’s in Geneva,” said Ket Siong. “It’s a long story.”

Renee hadn’t been in a state to notice much about him till now. His face was too close for her to be able to make out his expression. She pulled away so she could look at him. He withdrew the arm he’d put around her, clearing his throat.

He looked different, in some indefinable way. There was something new about him, but also something familiar. He was more like the Ket Siong she’d known when they were students. Freer, less sad.

She found herself missing the warmth of his arm around her. It took her a moment to process what he’d said.