Chapter 3

Clarice couldn't work to her full potential. In her spare time, she would cry as she stared at her picture frame with Joel, which was always on her desk to encourage her. Now, that spirit has disappeared since he’s gone. Clarice seemed to have no strength to live her life.

Every day her eyes swelled up and it was distressing whenever her coworkers asked about her condition. It was not uncommon for all of them to want to take over Clarice's work and tell her to just rest in her apartment.

Clarice closed the picture frame - no! She even put it in her desk drawer so she could focus on her work. She breathed in and out repeatedly, but at least it worked. She was able to get a little bit of work done but it took so long that by the time her shift was over, she didn't realize it.

"Clarice? Aren't you going home?" asked Stella, passing by her desk.

Clarice turned her head and noticed the watch in her left hand. "Oh? I didn't know it was evening."

"Just go home. Or do you want us to have some tea together?"

Stella was such a close coworker, you could say she knew a lot about Clarice. And of course, she knew Clarice didn't drink coffee, so she offered to have tea with her.

"Do you want to wait a moment? I'll tidy up my desk first."

"Sure. I'll wait for you, Clarice."

They drove to the nearest café from the office in their respective cars. They both went inside and ordered something. Stella was surprised to hear Clarice order a coffee drink, which she had never heard of. 

"Hey, are you sure you can have coffee?" asked Stella, after the waiter left.

Clarice nodded her head. "I'm sure. Coffee isn't so bad. Don't worry." Stella believed her friend was experiencing her highest level of stress because of her forced smile, which was so obvious.

The café she and Stella were now visiting still held memories of Joel. Clarice shouldn't have chosen this place as her destination, but she was still reluctant to forget Joel. Moreover, she hadn't visited her boyfriend's grave.

Boyfriend ... ah, Clarice even remembered Tristan's words. That a dead person has nothing to do with us anymore. It was hard to accept Tristan's argument, but Clarice also understood that everybody had a different viewpoint.

At least Clarice didn't see the man again. Hopefully not, as Clarice felt nervous when Tristan indicated that after they met, they would see each other again.

"Clarice, what are you thinking about?" asked Stella, breaking her reverie.

"Oh ... no. I just miss Joel."

"I'm sorry for you. But you can't go on like this, Clarice."

Everyone by her side was encouraging her. But their encouragement didn't work on her, as she was feeling it all alone. Even after Joel's death, she saw in front of her own eyes.

"It's not that easy. You know, I haven't even put flowers on his grave. I'm too afraid of meeting his family who will blame me. What if they find out that Joel died because of me? Because he–"

Stella covered Clarice's mouth with her hand before she could continue. She shook her head to stop her from continuing. "Don’t, someone might hear and report it. You won't know if there are spies around you or not, Clarice. So, let's just talk about what's appropriate."

"One Americano, please."

Clarice's familiar male voice rang out clearly, right at her side of the table. She turned her head and saw Tristan in the café, staring at her! Just as Clarice had hoped not to meet him, fate brought her together, fulfilling Tristan's words to her.

"Hello, Clarice Morgan," he greeted her. 

Stella, confused, touched Clarice's hand. "Who is he?"

Clarice couldn't explain and didn't know where to start. As much as possible she didn't look at Tristan again before he engaged her in conversation. But clearly, Tristan's presence made the atmosphere around her dangerous.

"I don’t know," Clarice replied to Stella, lying.

Stella, curious about Tristan, turned to him. "I don't know you, but if you and Clarice know each other, why don't you sit at our table?" She knew that her friend was lying to her.

Clarice's eyes widened at Stella's crazy offer. She wanted to tell her to withdraw her words, but it was too late ... Tristan had already moved to Clarice's side of the chair. 

"Thank you, Miss. We do know each other. Well, more like knowing each other," Tristan said.

Clarice could only remain silent and resigned. But honestly, with this situation, she could forget about Joel's death. Her sadness seemed to disappear and was replaced by her annoyance at the man.

They seemed to be talking and quite close. The two of them - Tristan and Stella were able to get along, but what Tristan always brought up as a topic of conversation was Clarice. Stella didn't even mind if a man asked about her friend, because Stella wasn't the type of woman who was jealous or wanted a man from her friend.

"Well, Tristan, I didn't realize that you didn't have an expression on every word. I mean, whether it's funny or not, you always take it in stride," Stella said, appraisingly.

Tristan turned to Clarice, who gave him a wink with one eye, which surprised Clarice. 

"That's me. I already told Clarice why I can be expressionless. You can ask her later. And by the way, can I just talk to her alone?"

Stella began to understand the request. She smiled as she reached for her bag. "Go ahead. Just make sure she gets safely to her apartment. You'll have to follow her from the back of her car. Bye, Clarice!"

Clarice looked like she wanted to follow her, but Tristan's hand at her side completely locked her out of moving. "Clarice," he said, "it seems very coincidental that we're meeting here, or is it not a coincidence, maybe it's because there's something that makes us finally meet again?"

Clarice's expression showed her displeasure, she even struggled against Tristan's grip. "Don't follow me!" Clarice hissed.

"I'm not following you and–"

"You're driving my friend away! Don't you know that we don't know each other? Get lost … "

Tristan sighed. "He even left willingly without showing any expression of displeasure. I think she'll be fine, well from her expression."

"You can never know what someone is feeling!"

"Well, I do know. Even though I can't show my expressions to anyone, I know what someone's expressions look like whether they're genuine or not."

Clarice felt like she was running as Tristan continued to reply to her every word. Her heart honestly fluttered when Tristan winkled one eye, which was strange to her.

"And you're confused about something. I was right, wasn't I?"

"Why did you just wink your one eye at me? I–I thought you wouldn't be able to show me any expression."

"Do you want to hear it, Clarice?"

"What?"

"It's because I like you."