Chapter 23: Misunderstanding
The rain had started lightly that Tuesday afternoon, soft droplets streaking the windows of Lucia's apartment. She sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at her phone, feeling a strange lump in her chest. Jin hadn't replied to her last message for hours.
It wasn't like him. He usually responded quickly, playful or thoughtful, his notes always bringing a smile to her face. She had sent him a simple message:
"Hey, hope your day's going well. Can't wait for our mini-adventure tonight. —L"
And then… nothing.
Her mind started racing. Did she say something wrong? Did he get annoyed with her? She tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept creeping in.
Meanwhile, Jin was at his apartment, staring at his phone with a similar tension. He had read her message, smiled, but then work had pulled him into an unexpected project. He had meant to respond, meant to tell her, but time slipped away. Now, when he finally had a moment, he found himself unsure how to explain the delay without seeming careless.
Lucia, growing anxious, decided to leave him a note under his door anyway.
"Maybe we can reschedule the adventure? Not sure what's going on. —L"
Jin found the note later that evening, and his chest tightened. He hadn't meant to make her feel ignored. He scribbled a quick response:
"Not ignoring you. Crazy day at work. I'm thinking of you. Can we talk tonight? —J"
Lucia read the note but misinterpreted the brief message. "Crazy day at work… thinking of you… maybe he's too busy," she whispered to herself, feeling a pang of disappointment. Her mind began to weave a narrative of distance, of him being distracted or, worse, losing interest.
That evening, they met at their usual spot for mini-adventures—a small café tucked away in a quiet Brooklyn alley. The rain had eased to a drizzle, and the warm glow of the café made the space feel cozy and safe.
"Hey…" Jin said, smiling softly as he approached.
Lucia forced a small smile, her chest tight. "Hey."
There was a brief, awkward silence. Jin noticed immediately that something felt off. "Did I… do something?" he asked gently.
Lucia shook her head quickly. "No… it's fine." But the tone in her voice betrayed her.
He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. "Luce… talk to me. I feel like something's wrong."
She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. "I… I don't know. I guess… I felt a little ignored today. You didn't respond to my message, and I…" Her voice trailed off.
Jin's eyes softened. "Luce… I didn't mean that. I read your message but then work completely took over. I was going to reply as soon as I could. I wasn't ignoring you."
Her chest loosened a little, but a shadow of doubt still lingered. "I know… but I guess I just… overthought it. Maybe I'm being dramatic."
He reached across the table, brushing her hand lightly with his fingers. "You're not being dramatic. I understand. And I'm sorry if it felt that way. I don't want you to feel like I don't care, because I do… more than I can say in a text."
Lucia looked at him, her heart warming at the sincerity in his voice. "I care too, Jin. I just… sometimes my mind runs ahead."
He squeezed her hand gently. "Mine does too. That's why we talk, right? One grape at a time. Even when things feel confusing, we work through them together."
She nodded slowly, feeling the weight lift off her chest. "One grape at a time…" she echoed. "I like that."
The misunderstanding lingered for a moment, but they worked through it with small gestures—touches of hands, soft smiles, and quiet words. The tension between them eased as the café filled with the warm hum of conversation and the scent of coffee.
Jin suggested they take a walk, and Lucia agreed. The drizzle had stopped, leaving a clean, fresh scent in the Brooklyn streets. They strolled slowly, side by side, sharing little glances and shy smiles.
"I hate when we misunderstand each other," Lucia admitted softly. "It makes me feel… distant, even when I know we care about each other."
"I know," Jin said, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. "But it's normal. Misunderstandings happen. What matters is that we talk. And that we notice… one grape at a time."
They paused at a small park, empty except for a few puddles reflecting the city lights. Jin turned to her, gently holding her hands in his. "I like you, Luce. And I like that we can work through things, even the small bumps. That's… important to me."
Her heart fluttered. "I like you too, Jin. I guess… I just needed to hear it."
He smiled softly, leaning a little closer. "I'll keep saying it, if you need me to. One grape at a time."
Lucia laughed softly, feeling the tension melt away. "One grape at a time," she agreed, her voice warm.
They continued their walk, sharing stories, teasing each other, and laughing lightly. Even the small misunderstanding became a moment of connection—a reminder that love wasn't about perfection, but about patience, honesty, and small gestures.
By the time they returned to their starting point, the city lights were reflected in puddles along the sidewalk, and their hands found each other naturally, fingers intertwined. The earlier strain had dissolved, replaced by renewed intimacy, trust, and warmth.
Before parting, Jin slipped a small note into her hand:
"Even when grapes get squished or rained on, they're still sweet. Thanks for talking. Thanks for trusting me. —J"
Lucia smiled, clutching it to her chest. "Even squished grapes are sweet…" she whispered softly.
As she walked home that night, her heart felt lighter than it had in hours. Misunderstandings were temporary, but the care, attention, and patience between them were real, steady, and growing—one grape at a time.
And in that quiet Brooklyn night, with the streets glistening from the rain, she realized that love wasn't about never having conflicts, but about working through them together, gently, honestly, and with a little playfulness along the way.