Chapter Ten – The Confrontation
The bonfire glowed behind them, voices carrying into the night, but Amara barely noticed when Joon-Ho’s hand closed firmly around her wrist.
She gasped, startled, looking up into his shadowed face. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with something she couldn’t name—but it wasn’t calm.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice low.
“Joon-Ho—what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer, just guided her quickly down one of the narrow paths between the guesthouses, away from the laughter and firelight. The autumn air was sharp, quiet except for the crunch of gravel beneath their shoes.
Finally, when they were out of sight, he released her wrist but stayed close, too close. His chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths.
“Why him?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.
Amara blinked. “What?”
“Daniel,” Joon-Ho spat the name like it tasted bitter. “Why do you laugh at everything he says? Why do you let him follow you around all day?”
Amara stared, her lips parting. “He’s just being nice. He’s a friend.”
Joon-Ho let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “A friend doesn’t look at you like that. Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”
Her heartbeat quickened. “Even if he does, what does it matter? It’s not your concern, Joon-Ho.”
That hit him like a slap. His eyes darkened, and before she could step back, he moved closer, towering over her.
“It matters,” he said through gritted teeth, “because I can’t stand watching it.”
The words hung heavy between them.
Amara’s breath caught, her back pressing against the wooden wall of the guesthouse. “Joon-Ho…”
His hand braced against the wall near her head, trapping her without touching. His voice dropped, low and rough. “Do you have any idea what it does to me, seeing him with you? Seeing you smile at him like that?”
Her pulse raced, confusion and something deeper swirling in her chest. “You’re… jealous?”
Joon-Ho’s jaw clenched. For a moment, it seemed he would deny it, but his eyes betrayed him—burning, vulnerable, desperate.
“I don’t want to be,” he whispered. “But I am.”
The silence was electric, the night holding its breath around them. Amara felt her own resolve wavering, her chest tightening as his words sank into her.
She had thought he was avoiding her. She had thought what happened between them at the party meant nothing to him. But now—
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Amara’s chest rose and fell sharply as his words sank in. Jealous. That’s what he said. That’s why he dragged her out here, demanding explanations.
But the sting in her chest wasn’t from his confession. It was from everything he had not done until this moment.
Her eyes narrowed. “So now you care?”
Joon-Ho froze. “What?”
“You heard me,” she snapped, her voice trembling with both anger and hurt. “You ignored me after the party, Joon-Ho. You left me there, in that room, without a word the next morning. You couldn’t even look me in the eye at school. Do you know how humiliating that was?”
His face tightened. “Amara, it’s not—”
“Not what?” she cut him off, fire flashing in her eyes. “Not what I think? Because it sure felt like I was just some mistake you regretted. And now, all of a sudden, you’re jealous? You don’t get to act like you care when you’ve spent days pretending I don’t exist.”
The words struck deep. Joon-Ho’s throat worked, but nothing came out. For once, the boy who always seemed so composed, so untouchable, looked completely shaken.
Amara stepped forward, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You don’t get to control who I talk to, or who notices me. Not when you couldn’t even bother to say a proper goodbye.”
He flinched, guilt flickering in his eyes, but he still didn’t back away. His voice was raw when he finally spoke.
“I was trying to protect you,” he said quietly.
Amara laughed bitterly, the sound cutting through the night. “Protect me? By abandoning me?”
Joon-Ho’s hand clenched into a fist at his side, his frustration warring with something more fragile. His voice dropped, rough and uneven. “You don’t understand, Amara. If you knew who my family is… what they expect of me… you’d see why I—”
She cut him off again, her voice sharp, though it trembled at the edges. “All I see is a boy who doesn’t know what he wants. And until you figure that out, don’t you dare tell me who I can or can’t smile at.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Her words had sliced through his walls, leaving him standing there, exposed and speechless.
Amara turned, her heart pounding, and walked back toward the glow of the bonfire without looking back.
For the first time, Joon-Ho didn’t chase her.
