When Love Wasn't Part of the Deal

by dottiee

Summary:

Yim and Tutor didn’t fall in love before getting married. It wasn’t even their choice.

Their families, close for generations, had long planned for the two to end up together. When the pressure mounted and expectations became too heavy to ignore, they agreed. Quietly. Reluctantly.

Tutor, with his heart still on James, tried to treat the marriage as a temporary arrangement. Yim, on the other hand, had quietly been in love with Tutor for years. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, this marriage could become something more.

Now they share a home they never planned for. Mornings begin with silent breakfasts, and evenings end with awkward small talk. They try to act like any other couple, but everything feels too careful, too polite. Sometimes they laugh, sometimes they don’t know what to say. It’s not awful, just unfamiliar—like wearing shoes that never quite fit.

Yim tries not to expect too much. Tutor tries not to hurt him. But pretending there are no feelings at all might be the hardest part.

Will Tutor ever see Yim differently? Or will Yim eventually grow tired of waiting for something that might never come?

Sometimes love doesn’t come first. But maybe, with time, it can grow.

Chapter 1: PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

 

"I’m allowing you to be with James, Tor," Yim said quietly. His voice was soft, but the discomfort in it was hard to miss.

 

Tutor blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

There was confusion in his expression, but also something else. Disappointment.

 

Yim, his omega husband, was permitting him to be with someone else. To cheat, even. And yet, Tutor couldn’t say it was unexpected. He’d been distant from the beginning, cold even, never hiding the fact that his heart belonged to someone else. He had made no effort to show Yim love, and deep down, he knew he’d been unfair.

 

“Be with the person you love, Tor,” Yim said, looking down. “But I have one condition. If I ever find someone who makes my heart feel the same way, please don’t stop me.”

 

Tutor stood frozen. He should have felt relieved. James had always been the one he longed for. But instead, there was a strange weight in his chest, a dull ache he hadn’t expected.

 

And in that moment, Tutor realized something he hadn’t wanted to admit.

 

He was starting to fall for Yim.

 

 

Chapter 2: CHAPTER 01

CHAPTER 01

 

The only time Yim ever saw Tutor was during the grand, elegant parties hosted alternately in their families’ homes. Their families had been close for generations, linked by business and legacy. Tutor’s lineage was known for producing powerful Alphas, revered for their intelligence and excellence in business, especially in real estate. Yim’s family, on the other hand, was known for raising beautiful and strong-willed Omegas, successful in the culinary industry despite lingering societal bias against their second gender.

 

Yim’s earliest memory of Tutor was framed by soft music and glittering lights. He was six, dressed in a crisp navy-blue suit with a matching bow tie, standing beside his Omega father, Prem.

 

“Yim, do you see that tall, handsome boy over there?” Prem whispered, pointing delicately across the room.

 

Yim followed the gesture with his eyes and saw a boy around his age, standing with composed confidence beside his Alpha parent.

 

“That’s Tutor,” Prem continued. “You’ll marry him one day, so be good to him, okay?”

 

Yim’s eyes sparkled. Even at that age, the thought of being chosen, of belonging to someone, especially someone like Tutor, made something flutter in his chest.

 

Yim had grown up in a loving home. His Alpha father, Boun, adored Prem without reservation. Their bond was the kind Yim had always dreamed of having for himself, tender, trusting, and full of affection. And perhaps, someday, he hoped to have that with Tutor.

 

Now sixteen, Yim found himself once again at one of those opulent gatherings, clutching a glass of sparkling juice while watching from a corner. Tutor stood a few meters away, holding hands with a stunning Omega, James. They were talking to one of Tutor’s parents’ business partners. The sight made Yim’s heart sink.

 

Yim, Tutor, and James all attended the same prestigious school. Despite James being a year older, he and Tutor were classmates due to academic acceleration. Yim, however, was placed in a different class, one focused on literature and creative writing, a field where he excelled. He often heard their names mentioned in the halls.

 

Even at ten, Tutor could talk business with adults, echoing his parents' sharp instincts. James, meanwhile, was the school’s epitome of elegance. He came from a long line of renowned ballerinas and carried himself like he was born on stage, graceful, polished, and admired by all.

 

Yim sighed quietly. Compared to the two, he felt like nothing more than a wealthy Omega with little to offer.

 

He had known about Tutor’s affection for James for years. The rumors had started when they were just eight, and while most dismissed them as childish, Yim held onto them tightly. He, himself, had begun liking Tutor at seven, even if he only ever saw him at parties and heard about him secondhand at school. Still, Yim didn’t mind. Not when he knew they were arranged to be married. He believed, no, he hoped, that one day, Tutor would come to love him too.

 

----------------

 

Tutor stood confidently beside Poppy, one of his mother’s longtime business partners, while James lingered gracefully by his side. The two made a striking pair, as always. Their chemistry was undeniable.

 

But then, Tutor’s mother beckoned him from across the room.

 

“I have to go see my mom. You don’t mind, right?” Tutor asked softly, gently patting James on the head, careful not to disturb his perfectly styled hair.

 

James offered him a warm smile. “Of course not. I’ll be at the food table,” he said, gesturing with a slight nod.

 

Tutor made his way toward a small cocktail table where Becky, his Alpha mother, stood sipping from a glass of wine. His heart quickened. That smile on her face, it was the same one she wore when she had something unchangeable in mind.

 

“Mom, you called?” he asked.

 

Becky turned to him with a subtle smile. “Tutor, how are things going with that Omega?”

 

Tutor was certain she meant James.

 

“We’re good,” he replied confidently. “I plan to marry him soon. He’s a dominant Omega, so I’m sure you won’t have any objections.”

 

There had always been one rule in their family: Alphas must marry dominant Omegas with respectable backgrounds to ensure strong, capable heirs. It was a rule drilled into Tutor’s mind since childhood.

              

But just as he thought he had found someone who fit all the criteria, Becky threw a wrench into his plans.

 

“Have you ever met the heir to the Khansawa family?” she asked casually.

 

Tutor blinked. “Our families have been close for generations, but I’ve never actually met their heir.”

 

Becky nodded, setting her wine glass down. “He’s going to be your husband.”

              

Her words landed like stones.

 

Tutor’s world tilted. For years, he believed that if he chose wisely within their requirements, he would have a say. He had imagined a life with James, beautiful, ambitious, and everything his parents would approve of. But suddenly, it wasn’t enough. Now, they were telling him to marry an Omega he didn’t even know.

 

He’d heard of Yim, the Khansawa heir. People said he was a quiet, intelligent boy, gifted in literature, and gentle in demeanor. If James represented sophistication and grace, Yim seemed to embody innocence and sincerity.

 

But that didn’t make this any easier.

              

Becky excused herself to join her wife, and Tutor was left standing amidst the soft clinking of glasses and laughter. He returned to James, who greeted him with a knowing smile.

              

Yet for the rest of the evening, Tutor wasn’t himself. He was quiet. Distant. As James chatted about dance rehearsals and upcoming galas, Tutor’s gaze kept flickering toward a corner of the room.

 

There, seated alone at a small table, was Yim. His head was bent over a leather-bound notebook, scribbling something with focused intensity, completely oblivious to the world around him.

 

Tutor watched him, watched the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the way his lips pursed slightly when he wrote.

              

Could he go through with a marriage he hadn’t chosen?

 

Could he let go of James, who he’d loved deeply, for as long as he could remember?

 

His chest tightened.

 

The party continued around him, music swelling and voices rising, but Tutor felt as though he were standing still in the eye of a storm.

 

He didn’t know if he had the strength to fight his parents’ expectations. He didn’t know if he could resist James or if he should even try. All he knew was that the future he had planned so carefully was slipping through his fingers, and that the boy sitting across the room, lost in his notebook, was the one his fate was now tied to.

 

              

 

              

 

              

 

Notes:

This is just a short flashback. Their marriage and married life might appear in the next chapter, whenever I manage to write it. I’m just an engineering student drowning in work right now, so I really can’t say when huhuhuhu.

Chapter 3: CHAPTER 02

CHAPTER 02

 

Dressed in a pristine white suit, adorned with a delicate white rose on his chest, Yim walked slowly down the glass aisle. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, matching the rhythm of the soft piano music echoing through the intimate hall. Today, he was finally marrying the love of his life—or at least, the person he had always believed to be.

 

The ceremony was simple and elegant. Only their closest family and a few trusted friends were invited. Unfortunately, that included James's family. As Yim passed Tutor’s parents, he offered them a polite nod. They returned the gesture with a cool, unreadable expression.

 

For Yim, this was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. The moment he learned he would be marrying Tutor, he had fallen in love instantly. Who wouldn’t? Tutor was everything an Omega could ever hope for—handsome, intelligent, responsible, and a dominant Alpha. Yim had always considered himself lucky.

 

But as he walked that red aisle with petals at his feet, reality struck him harder than he expected.

 

There was Tutor, waiting at the altar, dressed in a sharp black suit that made his features even more striking. Surrounded by blooming roses and golden light, he looked like a dream.

 

Except for his expression.

 

Tutor’s face was grim, his jaw clenched, eyes avoiding Yim’s completely. There was no joy, no anticipation. Just thinly veiled impatience, like he couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over.

 

Yim’s feet faltered for just a second. A part of him wanted to run—run far away from this fake fairytale. But he couldn’t. Not when the thought lingered in his heart that maybe, just maybe, Tutor would come to love him in time. Maybe living together under one roof would change things. Maybe he would be enough.

 

So, Yim smiled, convincing everyone and perhaps even himself that he was happy.

 

That was the dumbest decision he had ever made.

 

Three months into their marriage, nothing had changed. Yim and Tutor still slept in separate bedrooms. Every night, Yim would prepare dinner and leave it on the table, only to find it untouched the next morning.

 

His parents, Prem and Boun, would send him daily messages, asking if there was any baby news yet. Yim hadn't told them the truth—not about the cold dinners, not about the separate rooms, and certainly not about how Tutor barely even acknowledged him at home.

 

One small comfort was that James and Tutor hadn’t been seen together since the wedding. The rumors had stopped. Tutor himself had assured Yim that he wouldn’t cheat, and that their marriage would be respected.

 

But was respect enough?

 

Yim didn't know anymore.

 

One evening, Tutor came home later than usual. Yim, sitting on the living room couch in his pajamas, looked up as the door opened.

 

“Why are you still awake?” Tutor asked, loosening his tie.

 

“I was thinking that maybe we could eat dinner together tonight,” Yim said softly, almost timidly.

 

For the past three months, Yim had waited night after night. There were evenings when hunger gnawed at him and he considered eating alone. But he always decided against it, stubbornly believing that one day, Tutor would sit down beside him.

 

Tonight was supposed to be different. He had cooked Tutor’s favorite dishes and even stayed up late.

 

“You should’ve eaten first,” Tutor replied, brushing past him. “I already ate at the office.”

 

The words struck Yim like a slap. Still, he forced a smile, nodded, and walked toward the table.

 

The food looked delicious hours ago. Now it was cold and lifeless, just like his heart.

 

Yim sat down, staring at the untouched plates, his appetite gone. He considered reheating the meal but didn’t have the energy. With a quiet sigh, he stood and shuffled to his bedroom instead.

 

Meanwhile, Tutor headed to his room, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. As he prepared for bed, there was a soft knock on the door.

 

“Come in,” he called out.

 

The door creaked open, revealing a familiar face—Mila, his old nanny. The older woman carried a glass of warm milk, her face kind and tired.

 

“Still taking care of me, huh?” Tutor chuckled softly.

 

“You’ll always be that little boy I rocked to sleep, sir,” Mila said, placing the milk on the bedside table. “May I have a word?”

 

Tutor sat on the edge of his bed and nodded. “Of course.”

“Thank you for the warm meals every night,” Tutor said, sipping the milk. “Sorry I haven’t been able to eat them. Work’s just been nonstop.”

 

Mila tilted her head. “Sir, I think there’s a misunderstanding. I’m not the one who prepares those meals.”

 

Tutor’s brow furrowed. “You’re not?”

 

“No, sir. It’s Yim. Every night, he cooks for you. He waits until the food is perfect, sets the table, and hopes you’ll come home early enough to share a meal with him.”

 

Tutor froze, the glass halfway to his lips. His chest tightened with guilt.

 

For three months, he thought those dinners were simply a household routine, something Mila did out of habit. He never imagined Yim was behind it. Yim, who never once complained. Yim, who waited patiently even when his efforts were ignored.

 

“He…” Mila paused, “he waited for you until you came home, even though he was starving. He just wanted to have dinner with you.”

 

Tutor stared at the floor, silent. The warmth in the glass of milk had nothing on the heaviness in his chest.

 

He didn’t love Yim. That was the truth. He had entered this marriage out of obligation, with a heart still carrying pieces of someone else.

 

But he hadn't meant to be cruel.

 

He thought that being civil was enough. That showing restraint, being loyal, and keeping distance would make the marriage tolerable for both.

 

But he hadn’t realized how much it was hurting Yim.

 

And now that he knew, Tutor wasn’t sure how to look his husband in the eye again.

 

              

 

Notes:

To be honest, I’m not too happy with this update. I feel like it didn’t turn out the way I hoped.

Chapter 4: CHAPTER 03

CHAPTER 03

Yim’s morning started later than usual. For the past three months, he had trained his body to wake at 5 AM sharp, sometimes even earlier if he wanted to prepare something special for Tutor’s breakfast before the man left for work. But today, when sunlight was already spilling warmly across his bed and the clock read 9:02, he stayed under the blanket for a few extra moments, blinking against the light.

 

It wasn’t out of laziness or anger. No, Yim had decided, in the quiet hours before sleeping last night, that maybe it was time to give Tutor some peace. If the man hadn’t cared to eat with him before, forcing the same routine every morning was probably just tiring for the both of them.

 

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, dragged himself into his slippers, and padded out of the bedroom.

 

“Good morning.”

 

The voice made him freeze mid-step. Yim nearly tripped on the staircase when he spotted Tutor lounging on the sofa below, one leg crossed over the other, the remote control resting loosely in his hand.

 

Yim’s fingers tightened on the railing. “Good… morning,” he replied, still caught off guard.

 

This was not how mornings usually went. Tutor was normally long gone by now, already suited up and halfway to the office. But today, Yim’s gaze was snagged by something far stranger than the man’s presence, his appearance.

 

Gone was the sleek, pressed business suit and immaculate hairstyle. Tutor’s hair was a mess, tousled in a way that made it look softer, more human. Instead of his crisp white shirts and dark trousers, he wore a simple gray t-shirt and black shorts, the kind of casual clothes Yim had never seen him in. He didn’t even know Tutor owned anything so ordinary.

 

“What’s for breakfast?” Tutor asked, as casually as if this were routine.

 

“You’re eating here? For breakfast?” Yim’s voice tilted upward in surprise. “You don’t have work?”

 

“I took a one-day leave,” Tutor replied, not looking away from the TV. “So I’ll be eating here.”

 

The words sank in slowly, and Yim had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too obviously. But the moment Tutor’s attention was fixed on the screen, he turned and headed for the kitchen, almost running.

 

The familiar scent of wet rice greeted him before he stepped in. Mila was already at the sink, her sleeves rolled up, washing grains with a cheerful rhythm. She glanced over her shoulder and beamed.

 

“It’s a good morning, isn’t it?” she asked knowingly.

 

Yim only nodded, trying not to look too thrilled, and moved toward the fridge to gather ingredients.

 

He reached for the eggs first. Tutor liked his omelets light and fluffy, though Yim had never actually confirmed it. He had overheard it once, in a conversation Tutor had with someone on the phone months ago. That was enough for Yim to quietly make it his specialty.

 

Mila hummed as she drained the rice, her voice low and teasing. “I suppose I don’t have to tell you who you’re cooking for today.”

 

“Please don’t start,” Yim murmured, cracking eggs into a bowl. His hands moved automatically, whisking in a pinch of salt, milk, and chopped herbs.

 

She chuckled softly, not pressing further. “I’ll handle the rice cooker. You focus on the rest.”

 

Yim nodded and set about preparing the rest of breakfast, omelets, a small side of fresh salad, and miso soup. The sounds of the TV filtered faintly from the living room. Every now and then, Yim caught himself pausing mid-step, listening for hints of movement from Tutor.

 

When the omelet hit the pan, it sizzled softly. Yim adjusted the flame, careful not to overcook it. This wasn’t just breakfast; it was an unspoken message. Maybe, if Tutor ate with him today, they could talk.

 

Mila leaned against the counter, watching with quiet amusement. “You know,” she began, “if you added toast with butter, it would really look like a breakfast date.”

 

Yim shot her a look. “This isn’t a date.”

 

But his heart wasn’t so sure.

 

By the time everything was plated, the aroma had spread beyond the kitchen. Yim carefully arranged the dishes on a tray and carried it out.

 

Tutor was still on the sofa but had muted the television. His eyes flicked to the food, then to Yim. “That smells good.”

 

Yim set the tray on the coffee table. “I thought we could eat here. It’s more relaxed than the dining table.”

 

Tutor studied him for a second before shifting forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Sure.”

 

They sat opposite each other, the coffee table between them. Tutor picked up his chopsticks and took a bite of the omelet. His brows rose slightly. “You made this?”

 

“Yes,” Yim said, pretending to be busy pouring the miso soup into bowls.

 

“It’s good,” Tutor said simply, then took another bite.

 

The simple praise made Yim’s chest tighten unexpectedly. He focused on his plate, eating in small, careful bites. They didn’t talk much, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just quiet.

 

Halfway through the meal, Tutor set his chopsticks down and leaned back against the sofa. “I didn’t realize you could cook like this.”

 

Yim’s lips curved slightly. “I’ve been cooking for you for months.”

 

Tutor blinked. “I thought Mila—”

 

“She told you last night.” Yim’s tone was neutral, but his eyes stayed fixed on his bowl. “I guess you just didn’t notice before.”

 

There was a brief silence. Then Tutor said quietly, “I notice now.”

 

The words hung in the air, making Yim’s fingers pause over his soup spoon. He glanced up and found Tutor watching him, not with impatience, but with something softer, almost thoughtful.

 

They finished breakfast without rushing. When the plates were empty, Yim began gathering them, but Tutor stood as well. “I’ll help.”

 

“You don’t have to—”

 

“I want to,” Tutor said, taking the bowls from his hands.

 

In the kitchen, Mila raised her eyebrows at the sight of Tutor rinsing dishes. She didn’t comment, but the small smile tugging at her lips was telling enough.

 

After they were done, Tutor dried his hands and glanced toward the hallway. “Do you have plans today?”

 

Yim shook his head. “Not really.”

 

Tutor hesitated, then said, “Get dressed. Something casual.”

 

Yim blinked. “Why?”

 

“We’re going out.” Tutor’s voice was calm, but there was a faint glint in his eyes that Yim couldn’t quite read.

 

“Out… where?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

And before Yim could ask again, Tutor was already heading upstairs, leaving Yim standing in the kitchen, heart thudding with a mix of confusion and anticipation.

Notes:

I nearly forgot I even had a fanfic to write. I’ve spent the past few weeks just reading manhwa hehehe.

Chapter 5: CHAPTER 04

Notes:

I’m back! Sorry for almost abandoning this fanfic, life got super busy. Anywaysss, quick survey time:

Other than Net, who’s your favorite ghost ship partner for Yim? (I need it T-T)

CHAPTER 04

 

Yim went downstairs with a bounce in his step, the soles of his sandals slapping lightly against the polished wood. His outfit was simple, but he had chosen it carefully: a plain white t-shirt tucked loosely into brown trouser shorts and his favorite black sandals. It was casual, comfortable, and exactly the kind of thing one would wear for a quiet outing. He had not wanted to overthink it, yet his heart had been racing ever since Tutor told him to get ready.

 

He reminded himself not to look too eager. He told himself this was nothing, just Tutor being kind. Still, Yim could not stop the warmth curling inside him at the thought of spending time with the man outside of their home, just the two of them.

 

Mila was in the hallway arranging some folded laundry when she spotted him. She paused, her eyes sweeping over his clothes before her lips curved into a knowing smile.

 

“Yim, you are really pretty right now, dear,” she said warmly.

 

Yim beamed at the remark, cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and pride. Mila had always been generous with her compliments, but today they felt different, like a quiet reassurance that maybe his excitement was not foolish after all.

 

He sat on the couch, his knees bouncing slightly as he waited. Tutor had gone upstairs earlier, and Yim had assumed he would be the first one down. Yet here Yim was, waiting again. Still, he didn’t mind. He had waited countless mornings at the dining table for Tutor, sometimes staring at food that would eventually go cold. Compared to those long stretches of uncertainty, this kind of waiting felt easier, lighter, almost hopeful.

 

Minutes ticked by. Yim leaned forward, his eyes flicking toward the staircase every time he thought he heard footsteps. Finally, he did hear movement, steady and confident. His heart lifted.

 

But the sight that greeted him made his forehead crease instantly.

 

Tutor appeared at the top of the stairs, not in casual clothes as Yim had expected, but in his full business attire: a dark blazer, crisp shirt, polished shoes. He looked every bit the professional executive, and the image stabbed into Yim’s chest before he could school his expression.

 

Yim stood up, confused. “Tor…?”

 

Tutor’s face was tight, his brows slightly drawn. “Yim, I’m so sorry. Something came up at the company. They need me there right now.” His voice carried regret, but it was firm, the kind that left little room for argument.

 

Yim’s throat closed for a moment, but he forced a small smile to his lips. “It’s okay, Tor. If it’s important, then it can’t be helped. We can reschedule. The company is more important.”

 

Tutor gave him one last apologetic look, as though searching for forgiveness in his eyes, then grabbed his briefcase and hurried out the door.

 

The quiet that followed seemed louder than usual.

 

Mila appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She frowned slightly as she saw Tutor leaving in such a rush. “Where is Tutor going?” she asked, looking toward the front door.

 

Yim sat back down, his smile fading now that there was no one left to see it. His voice was flat. “Something important came up.”

 

Mila studied him for a moment, noting the heaviness in his tone, but she didn’t push. Instead, she crossed her arms, tilting her head. “You know, we need to go grocery shopping today. Why don’t you come with me?”

 

Yim looked up. “The grocery?”

 

“Yes,” Mila said. “The pantry is running low, and I could use an extra pair of hands. Besides, staying home will only make you brood. Fresh air will help.”

 

Yim hesitated. He wanted to curl up in his room, to let the disappointment sink in privately. But Mila’s gentle insistence and her understanding eyes made it difficult to refuse. Finally, he nodded. “All right.”

 

-----------------------------------------------

 

The supermarket was bustling when they arrived. The cool air of the refrigerated aisles contrasted sharply with the sticky warmth outside. Yim pushed the cart while Mila checked her neatly written list.

 

They moved slowly, stopping at each section. Mila chatted idly about vegetables, snacks, and the rising price of rice. Yim listened, responding when needed, but his mind wandered. He kept thinking about how quickly Tutor had disappeared, how easily their supposed outing had been replaced with “something important.”

 

Mila, perhaps sensing his distraction, tried to lighten the mood. She nudged him playfully with a pack of noodles. “Don’t look so gloomy, Yim. If you frown too much, you’ll get wrinkles before your time.”

 

Yim managed a small laugh, the sound faint but genuine. “I’ll try.”

 

They continued down the aisles, the cart filling steadily. Mila hummed as she picked out vegetables, occasionally dropping treats into the cart with a mischievous smile, as if she were spoiling him in secret.

 

When they reached the section with drinks, Yim trailed a little behind, letting Mila debate between two brands of juice. His gaze drifted lazily across the aisle. That was when he froze.

 

Just a few feet away, near the wine section, Tutor stood.

 

He wasn’t alone.

 

James was beside him, holding a shopping basket, talking casually as they scanned the shelves together. They looked relaxed, like two people who had just got married. Tutor’s expression was neutral, not smiling too widely, but open in a way Yim rarely saw when the man was at home.

 

Yim ducked slightly behind the cart, heart hammering. His eyes stayed locked on the pair. James said something, pointing toward a shelf, and Tutor nodded in quiet agreement. It was nothing extravagant, nothing openly affectionate, yet the sight alone made Yim’s stomach twist.

 

This was not the expression of a man burdened by work. It was not the face of someone rushing to solve a company emergency.

 

It was Tutor, standing beside James in a grocery store, on a day he had promised to spend with Yim.

 

Mila’s voice broke through the pounding in his ears. “Yim, can you put this juice in the cart?” She turned to him, then followed his line of sight. For a moment, her lips pressed together, but she said nothing.

 

Yim’s fingers trembled slightly as he took the carton of juice and placed it inside. He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. His chest felt heavy, as though every breath took effort.

 

Tutor hadn’t noticed him, and Yim wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or crushed by that fact.

 

He forced his feet to move, pushing the cart slowly forward, away from the wine aisle, away from Tutor and James.

 

Mila quietly walked beside him, her silence more comforting than any words could have been.

 

Yim did not look back.