Harper decided on a beachside night market that Yelp reviews had praised. There was something uniquely charming about grilling under the stars by the ocean.

She preferred avoiding the crowd and chose a spot closer to the edge, ordering a variety of dishes with a snap of her fingers. Over the past few days, she'd picked up on Spencer's tastes: no organ meats and just a hint of spice.

Spencer was silent as he eyed the large oysters and grilled scallions that had arrived.

"When I looked up places to eat, they said the oysters and scallions here were a must-try," Harper explained, breaking apart a pair of disposable chopsticks and rubbing them together. Seeing Spencer's conflicted expression, she thought he might be put off by the environment. "Give it a chance. They keep it really clean here."

Cleanliness wasn’t really the issue...

Spencer picked up an oyster, hesitated, and then decided to take a bite. The flavor was unexpectedly good—sweet and fresh, no less tempting than anything found in upscale restaurants.

Harper noticed him indulging and smiled a little dimple into her cheek. "See? Pretty good, right?"

Spencer was momentarily captivated by that hint of a dimple and agreed, "Yeah."

Harper was beautiful. That dimple softened her otherwise calm and composed demeanor, granting her a youthful glow that belied the eight years between them. Walking side by side, you’d never have guessed the age difference.

Silently, Spencer reached for another oyster. Hunger gnawed at him; he had skipped dinner for a coffee craft session and thoughts of Harper had distracted him until this feast laid out before him.

Halfway through the meal, something felt incomplete. Glancing at the spread, Spencer inquired, "You didn’t order any drinks?"

Harper looked up. "Why would you need alcohol? You're underage."

"I smoke too, and you haven’t called the cops yet," Spencer scoffed. "You're not forbidden to drink, are you?"

"Actually, I can't hold my liquor," Harper admitted without any shame. Her lifelong aversion to alcohol meant she often ended up as the designated driver, escorting friends home after gatherings.

"Suit yourself," Spencer teased. "And you call yourself an adult?"

"Of course," Harper flashed a bright smile. "I get to decide if you get to drink or not."

Watching her amused expression, Spencer suddenly felt a flutter in his chest, and he lowered his eyes, whispering, "You have a drink with me, and I’ll tell you something."

Harper’s curiosity was piqued. "What?"

"The story behind the green tea cake," Spencer offered mysteriously.

"Deal!" Harper agreed immediately.

Such opportunities to deeply connect didn’t come often, and she wasn’t about to let this one pass by.

"But only beer, agreed?" Harper set a limitation.

Spencer frowned but nodded.

As Harper turned to buy drinks, Spencer was quick to rise. "I’ll go. I doubt you even know what’s good."

Harper admitted her ignorance. "Just make sure it’s only beer, nothing else!"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Spencer shot back, heading toward the vendor’s beverages.

Business was evidently booming. Spencer spotted some Corona still available and grabbed four bottles. As he paid, a small bottle of Jägermeister caught his eye. He slipped it into his pocket—a little something to spice up the beer, much-loved by the adventurous youth.

Returning with the drinks, Spencer found a man standing in front of Harper, seemingly trying to chat her up.

Spencer's fingers itched to make a fist.

"Can I get your WeChat, miss?"

"Sorry, not interested," Harper politely but firmly declined, her smile a masterpiece of diplomacy.

Hearing her gentle refusal tempered Spencer's simmering anger. He quickened his pace, placing himself behind Harper.

"Harper, who's this guy?" Spencer asked with deliberate hostility, channeling the persona of a jealous boyfriend.

“Oh, him—” Harper was taken aback at being called by her first name but went along with it.

Before she could continue, the man hastily interjected, "Nothing, nothing—I was just passing by."

Spencer, taller and clearly athletic, loomed over the potential suitor who quickly scurried away in the face of intimidating masculinity.

Harper couldn’t help but giggle. "You’re quite the protector, aren’t you?"

Spencer kept his fierce expression intact and popped open a beer on the table, glancing at her. "Drink."

Harper picked up a bottle and feigned exasperation. "I’m really taking one for the team here."

"You just want the gossip," Spencer shot back, calling her bluff.

Harper sipped cautiously and grimaced. Truth be told, she had never quite understood the allure of beer… coconut water was much more to her taste.

Holding her beer aloft, she clinked bottles with Spencer, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Spencer, unable to handle the intensity of her gaze, used the distant, dark ocean waves as a focal point.

The rhythmic crashing of waves filtered through, mingling with the aroma of sizzling street food and...

Her scent—subtle, slightly bitter, yet sweet and all-consuming.

Spencer found a sense of peace wash over him, equipping him to handle the embarrassing subject matter he was about to recount.

He succinctly narrated his history with Samantha without delving into the emotional turmoil, mentioning the prank acceptance of her confession and their fallout over a botched attempt to escalate the relationship.

His account hit a vague patch when touching on sensitive issues, but it was clear enough for Harper to grasp the situation.

"So wild, these high schoolers," Harper mused.

Oh wait, her classmates had kids in high school. But none were as bold as to slam their ex over performance in public.

"You don't seem too broken up about it," Harper commented evenly.

"Sad over that trash?" Spencer scoffed.

Harper tapped her bottle against his again. "It stings, though, right?"

"Been there myself," she said, propping her chin on her hand, speaking quietly.

Spencer twisted his neck sharply, seemingly shocked.

Harper grinned, that dimple resurfacing fleetingly. "Back in university, I thought I'd found Mr. Perfect. Turned out, while I was earning extra cash to buy him gifts, he was checking into a hotel with someone else. Caught them red-handed."

She had stumbled on the scene by sheer accident, bumping into them leaving the hotel after her tutoring gig. It was as if fate had given her an intervention.

"Really, it's nothing."

Her voice was soft, carrying the ease of someone untouched by adversity.

"The old crushes or embarrassments? They're not what matters most. What matters is how we choose to perceive them."

"Whether it teaches us a lesson or haunts us forever."

"Ultimately, your choices define you."

Watching her sincere smile, Spencer felt himself relax.

—She seemed always to be smiling, never showing strain over the days they'd spent together.

How could someone laugh through something so humiliating?

And yet…it wasn't unpleasant.

The kind only hinted at, not fabricated.

Her sincerity and warmth felt real—a soothing balm for his raw, fiery emotions.

It was the first time anyone had told him it wasn’t a big deal.

As if a parched traveler had finally found an oasis, pure water quenching his dry throat, washing away the grime from within.

This peace transformed, tagging his moments, heartbeat steady and deliberate.

It was as if his core hit a new balance, inscribing and fortifying memories.

—And yes, that was why he found himself drawn to her.