Chapter 3Born a Tree Not a Flower

My screen went quiet. Then, the bubble popped up: "Henry is typing..."

It took him a long moment to reply.

"Tomorrow? Aren't you supposed to be celebrating Oliver's birthday?"

I smiled sadly. "No need."

As soon as I sent it, I felt a wave of guilt. It felt cheap, like I was using Henry as some sort of shield.

I was about to unsend the message and explain, when his reply flashed on the screen.

"Sure."

Now I was the one left speechless.

Oh well. It was just a lunch. No big deal.

Besides... Oliver probably wouldn't bother reaching out to me tomorrow anyway.

The next morning, I woke up with a bad case of cold feet. I wanted to back out.

But before I could text him, Henry beat me to it: "What are we eating? Meet at noon?"

Locked in, I had no choice but to get ready. I washed my hair, put on some makeup, and arrived on time.

Henry was already there. When he looked up and saw me, he paused.

"You look beautiful today."

"Thanks, Henry."

I felt a sudden flutter of awkwardness and avoided his eyes.

But he caught me off guard by asking, "Is the look for Oliver?"

I opened my mouth, surprised.

Henry was our advisor's star student, the golden boy of the department. He was one of those naturally gifted geniuses I could never hope to compete with. We weren't particularly close.

I honestly hadn't expected him to accept my invitation, let alone ask such personal questions. Usually, I was too intimidated to even speak to him.

"Not really..." I mumbled.

Seeing my discomfort, Henry didn't push. We ate in comfortable silence.

But when the dishes arrived, I realized they were all my favorites—spicy, bold flavors.

"How did you know...?"

Henry smiled gently. "I noticed during our lab dinners. I tend to observe people."

It didn't feel invasive. Instead, a quiet warmth bloomed in my chest.

It had been a very long time since anyone had remembered what I liked.

"Thank you," I said, my voice suddenly thick.

Henry noticed my glassy eyes but didn't pry. He simply placed a piece of chili-seared beef onto my plate.

Just then, the restaurant doors opened, and a familiar burst of laughter echoed through the space. I froze.

I turned my head. It was Zora and Oliver.

They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me.

"Lydia!"

Zora squealed, running over to wrap her arms around my shoulder. "What are you doing here? You didn't answer my calls, I was so worried!"

Oliver's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Henry. A flash of something like hostility crossed his face before vanishing.

He stepped closer, his voice cool and measured. "Lydia, what's going on with your phone?"

I forced a small smile. "Must be broken."

It was a terrible excuse, but it was a way out.

Zora gasped, looking at Henry. "Wow, hello! You're gorgeous. Are you my sister's friend?"

Henry ignored her outstretched hand, giving her a polite, distant nod. "Nice to meet you."

Zora looked momentarily embarrassed, but she quickly bounced back, turning to me with a bright smile.

"Lydia, isn't this place amazing? Oliver brought me here specifically! If we're eating this for lunch, what are the plans for tonight?!"

"Specifically."

I looked at Oliver. I knew he hated spicy food.

He was highly disciplined, preferred bland, healthy meals, and couldn't stand Sichuan cuisine. But Zora loved it.

And so did I.

But what I liked had never really mattered.