The next morning, Miranda went out for her morning run. Now that she had more free time, she had picked up the habit again. Every time she finished a run and showered, drenched in sweat, she would feel energized for the rest of the day.
“Morning, Dr. Jefferson.”
“Morning.” Paul had already finished his run and was about to head back when he saw her. He changed direction and said, “Come on, I’ll join you for a bit.”
“Won’t this delay your time at the lab?”
“Silas is handling the new project, so I’m not too busy lately.”
“That must be bothering Dr. Quinton,” Miranda joked.
“Doesn’t matter if it bothers him; work still needs to be done,” Paul replied seriously. Silas probably would have lost it if he had been there to hear that.
They ran two laps around the park, but Miranda started to slow down, showing signs of exhaustion.
Noticing this, Paul said, “Adjust your breathing, focus on the rhythm. Follow me… Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…”
Miranda followed his advice, and sure enough… “It’s much better!” she exclaimed. “That’s enough for today.”
“Alright.”
Since it was rare for them to meet up like this, they decided to grab breakfast together before heading home.
“Any word back from the journals you submitted your thesis to?” Paul asked.
Miranda shook her head. “Not yet.”
“That’s normal. The review process for international journals is much more complicated than it is for domestic ones. It takes even longer for prestigious journals.”
Talking about her thesis, Miranda said, “Thanks again for letting me use your lab, Dr. Jefferson. I was able to finish my three theses because of it. If I offered to pay rent, I know you wouldn’t take it, and that would feel too transactional. But if I don’t do something in return, I’ll feel bad. So, after thinking about it, how about I treat you to a meal?”
Paul smiled and readily agreed, “Sure. I won’t say no to a free meal.”
She probably had to book a restaurant. “What would you like?”
“Anything is fine,” Paul replied. “The food you cook is always delicious.”
Miranda blinked in confusion. When did she say she would cook? But clearly, that’s what Paul had assumed. Well, alright then… Although the weather had gotten hotter and she hadn’t been cooking much lately, since Paul had requested it…
“How about lunch today? Are you free?” she asked.
“I am,” he replied.
As they walked and talked, Miranda suddenly stopped in her tracks as they neared the alleyway. Paul paused as well. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Following her gaze, he saw Hansel standing outside the apartment building, now looking back at them. Dressed in a black shirt and black trousers, he stood under a tree, the shadows from its branches casting patterns across him. Light and darkness crisscrossed over his body, as though cutting him into fragments. At first glance, he appeared mottled and broken.
“Mimi…” Hansel stepped forward, his eyes hungrily fixated on her face.
Perhaps from the exercise, a thin layer of sweat covered her forehead. Her eyes were bright and clear as if freshly washed, and they sparkled under the light. Her slightly flushed cheeks made her look full of vitality.
Hansel didn’t acknowledge Paul standing beside her–not because he hadn’t noticed, but because he found Paul’s presence annoying and chose to ignore him. He couldn’t get rid of him, so he convinced himself to act as if Paul wasn’t there.
“Is there something you need, Mr. Johnson?” Miranda’s words were cold, instantly creating a distance between them. Her “Mr. Johnson” widened the gap between them.
Hansel forced a bitter smile. “Do we really need to be this distant?”
Miranda looked at him and slowly shook her head. “We’re not close.”
“Can’t we at least be friends?”
“There’s no need.”
In her mind, an ex should be as good as dead. The idea of “being friends” was often just one person not willing to let go, while the other still harbored lingering feelings. Miranda had neither of those issues.