Heshowed no sign of experiencing inconvenient horny flashbacks. She might have imagined him holding her hand all the way back to her building.
In the living room, he chose an armchair a decorous distance from the sofa where she was sitting.
“Going by what Andrew tried with you, it could have been even worse for Lin,” said Ket Siong. “You’ve been trying to win his business, but you’re still the daughter of Goh Kheng Tat. She has fewer protections. It was a good impulse, to want to shield her.”
Andrew was full of shit, obviously, but till now, Renee had not questioned one aspect of his story—that his outrageous behaviour was due to the history between them. Renee had dumped Andrew even though he’d felt entitled to her, and that was why he hadn’t gotten over it, ten years on.
It had not previously occurred to her that she was probably not the singular recipient of Andrew’s sense of entitlement, out of all the women he knew.
She sat up. “Ket Siong, you’re right. If Andrew’s willing to harass me, what’s to say he’s not doing the same thing with his staff? I don’t know why I never thought of it before. I thought it was about me, like I’m special. How self-absorbed is that?”
“You are special,” said Ket Siong.
Renee blinked.
She waited for him to make it into a joke, or change the subject, but he didn’t. He was blushing, but his gaze on her was steady.
“I thought you’d never want to speak to me again,” Renee said, after a moment. “After how I behaved.”
“You’re the one who stopped talking to me.”
“I’m sorry—”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Ket Siong. “I know I put you in a difficult position. Hearing all that, the night before your pitch… I knew how important it was to you. I made a serious accusation about someone you know, a friend of your family’s, and I expected you to just take my word for it.”
“But we’re friends,” said Renee. “You’re entitled to expect your friends to trust you.”
Ket Siong tried to suppress it, but she caught his wince. Guilt twisted in her chest.
“It was a big deal,” she said. “That you trusted me enough to tell me about Stephen. I’m not proud of how I reacted. I should have been there for you. I’m sorry I let you down.”
Renee looked down at her hands, empty now she’d put her tea on the coffee table.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know how to make a different choice.”
“You’ll figure it out,” said Ket Siong. He got up and crossed the living room, sitting down next to her. “Renee.”
His voice was low and tender. Renee felt hypnotised. She couldn’t look away from him.
He reached out and touched her hair. Just the lightest brush of the fingers, but it went through Renee like a hot knife through butter. It felt like her bones were dissolving, like she might melt into the sofa.
Ket Siong was looking at her like she was something magical, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed so close.
He was going to kiss her. Renee’s heart was racing, but she felt at the same time profoundly calm, as though nothing could go wrong. Everything that had happened between them was meant to lead up to this. Every misunderstanding, every hurt, every time she’d doubted his feelings: it all fell away, insignificant, compared to the supreme importance of this one moment…
“Do you have a hair dryer?” said Ket Siong.
Renee’s eyes snapped open. “What?”
Ket Siong had that perfect little crease between his eyes that always made her want to kiss him, first there, and then on his mouth.
“It’s just,” he said apologetically. “Your hair’s wet.”
Renee had towelled her hair off till it was no longer dripping, brushed the worst of the tangles out, and bundled it up in a bun. It was true it was somewhat damp, but… “You don’t believe that stuff about leaving your hair wet? Like, it’s bad luck or you’ll get rheumatism or something?”
Ket Siong frowned. “I get headaches when my hair’s wet.”
Renee must be down bad. Ket Siong was pouting—there was really no other word for the stubborn curl of his lip—but it suited him.
