Chapter 83

NINI’S RANDOM QUESTION (MINI SERIES)

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The living room was unusually quiet for a Sunday evening.

A soft golden lamp glow spilled across the couch where Lisa was lying on her side, scrolling lazily through her phone. A half-finished snack bowl sat forgotten on the coffee table, and somewhere in the background, a low playlist hummed like it was afraid to disturb the peace.

Jennie stood by the kitchen counter longer than necessary.

She wasn’t doing anything in particular—just staring at the same glass of water she had already refilled twice. Her fingers tapped lightly against it, then stopped. Then started again.

Lisa noticed, of course.

She always noticed Jennie.

“Baby,” Lisa called without looking up, voice soft and easy. “You’ve been standing there like a villain in a drama for five minutes.”

No response.

Lisa finally glanced over. “Jennie?”

Jennie blinked, like she had just been pulled back into the room from somewhere far away. “Hm?”

Lisa sat up slightly. “What’s wrong with you?”

That was the thing—Jennie didn’t look angry. Not sad either. Just… stuck. Like a thought she didn’t like had taken up too much space in her head and refused to leave.

She walked slowly toward the couch and stopped right in front of Lisa.

For a moment, she just stared.

Lisa tilted her head. “Okay, now you’re scaring me a little. Did I forget an anniversary? A promise? Your favorite snack? Because I swear I didn’t—”

Jennie finally spoke.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Silence.

Not dramatic silence. Not cinematic silence.

Just the kind of silence where Lisa’s brain visibly stopped functioning for a full three seconds.

Then—

“Huh?”

Jennie repeated it, softer this time, but still serious. “Are you cheating on me?”

Lisa slowly put her phone down like it had suddenly become a fragile object. “Jennie Kim… where did that come from?”

Jennie looked away for a second, then back. “Just answer.”

Lisa stared at her, still processing. Then she pointed at herself. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“Lisa… Manoban?”

“Yes.”

“The same Lisa Manoban who is currently wearing pajama pants with cartoon ducks on them and has crumbs on her shirt?”

Jennie didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

Lisa leaned back into the couch, exhaling slowly. “Okay. First of all, I feel personally attacked by the ducks comment.”

Jennie didn’t smile.

That was the problem.

Lisa noticed immediately.

The teasing faded from her face, replaced with something gentler. “Hey,” she said more softly now. “Where is this coming from?”

Jennie hesitated.

That hesitation was answer enough that something real was underneath the question.

She finally sat down beside Lisa, but not too close. That was new. Jennie always sat close.

“I saw your phone earlier,” she said.

Lisa frowned. “My phone?”

“You were smiling at it.”

Lisa blinked. “I smile at a lot of things. Memes. Cats. Sometimes air if it’s funny enough.”

Jennie ignored that.

“And you turned it away when I walked in,” Jennie added.

Lisa froze for half a second.

Then she slowly reached for her phone on the table. “Jennie… I think you’re about to accuse me of cheating because I was looking at—”

She unlocked it and turned the screen around.

A group chat filled the display. Photos of food. A chaotic string of stickers. Someone had spammed a capybara meme collection again.

Jennie stared at it.

Lisa pointed. “This is what you’re worried about. A capybara meme war.”

Jennie narrowed her eyes slightly. “You smiled at that.”

“Yes.”

“And hid it.”

“I didn’t hide it. I turned my phone because you were walking in and I didn’t want you to see me laughing like an idiot at a capybara wearing sunglasses.”

Jennie didn’t respond immediately.

Her expression wavered.

Lisa leaned closer, voice quieter now. “Baby… did you actually think I was cheating?”

Jennie looked down at her hands. “I don’t know.”

That answer was worse than yes.

Lisa shifted closer immediately, closing the space Jennie had left on purpose. “Hey. Look at me.”

Jennie didn’t at first.

Lisa gently nudged her knee with her own. “Jennie.”

Slowly, Jennie lifted her gaze.

Lisa’s expression wasn’t amused anymore. It was warm, steady—anchored.

“Talk to me,” Lisa said. “No guessing. No spiraling. Just tell me what made you think that.”

Jennie hesitated again, then spoke more honestly this time. “You’ve been on your phone a lot this week. And sometimes you smile and don’t say what it is.”

Lisa blinked.

Then, very slowly, she nodded like she was connecting invisible dots.

“Oh,” she said quietly.

Jennie added, almost defensively, “And you’ve been busy.”

“I’ve been rehearsing,” Lisa replied immediately. “For hours. With a dying soul and too much caffeine.”

Jennie didn’t smile, but her shoulders loosened slightly.

Lisa shifted even closer until their knees touched. “Jennie… I need you to hear me clearly.”

Jennie stayed still.

Lisa took her hand gently.

“I am not cheating on you,” she said firmly, but soft. “I am too tired to even cheat on a video game, let alone my entire girlfriend.”

A beat.

Then Lisa added, “Also I would be absolutely terrible at it. I can’t even lie about finishing snacks. You always catch me.”

That got the smallest flicker of emotion from Jennie’s face.

Lisa squeezed her hand lightly. “But more importantly… if something is bothering you, you don’t sit with it alone and turn it into a worst-case movie in your head, okay?”

Jennie looked down again.

“I didn’t want to be wrong,” she admitted quietly.

Lisa tilted her head. “Wrong about what?”

Jennie’s voice came even softer. “About trusting you.”

That landed heavier than anything else in the room.

Lisa didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease. Didn’t even exhale dramatically.

She just shifted closer until she could gently rest her forehead against Jennie’s for a brief moment.

“You trusting me isn’t something you can be wrong about,” Lisa said. “It’s something we build. And if your brain tries to mess with you like that again, you tell me. Immediately. Even if it’s about capybaras or suspicious smiles.”

Jennie blinked once.

“Capybaras?” she repeated faintly.

Lisa nodded seriously. “Very dangerous. Extremely suspicious.”

That finally pulled a small breath of laughter out of Jennie—barely there, but real.

Lisa smiled faintly at that, relief easing into her expression.

“There she is,” Lisa murmured.

Jennie leaned a little closer now, like she was remembering she was allowed to.

After a moment, she said, “So… you were just laughing at memes.”

“Yes.”

“And not hiding a secret relationship.”

Lisa stared at her. “Jennie, if I had the energy for a secret relationship, I would instead use it to take a nap.”

That earned a proper, quiet laugh this time.

Jennie shifted until her shoulder pressed lightly against Lisa’s. “I feel a little stupid.”

Lisa immediately shook her head. “Nope. Wrong answer.”

Jennie looked up.

“You don’t get to insult yourself,” Lisa said simply. “You got scared. You asked. That’s it. No self-roasting allowed.”

Jennie hesitated, then nodded slightly.

The tension between them finally settled, like a knot loosening.

For a while, they just stayed like that—close, quiet, the earlier storm already feeling far away.

Then Lisa spoke again, lighter this time.

“But I do have one question.”

Jennie looked up. “What?”

Lisa tilted her head. “If I ever actually cheated on you… do you really think I would still be using duck pajama pants as my emotional support outfit?”

Jennie stared at her for a second.

Then, despite herself, she smiled properly this time.

“No,” she admitted.

Lisa nodded. “Exactly. I have standards.”

Jennie lightly nudged her shoulder.

Lisa grinned.

And this time, when Jennie leaned into her, there was no hesitation left between them—just quiet certainty that even misunderstandings couldn’t shake what was already real.