My DARLING CEO Is An Insomniac!
Chapter 189: Unspoken feelings

Chapter 189: Unspoken feelings

Song Jia blushed as she turned her away, only for Ming Beicheng to bring her face back.

"Let’s go have dinner, it’s hard to book a reservation at that restaurant.."

Ming Beicheng removed his hand as he walked to the car.

Song Jia bit her lips taking a deep breath before following behind.

The soft lighting of Supri did little to ease the palpable tension at the table where Ming Beicheng and Song Jia sat. Despite the restaurant’s elegant ambiance, an uncomfortable silence hung between them.

Ming Beicheng, remained composure, maintained a polite smile as he glanced at the menu. His outward appearance betrayed none of the awkwardness he felt internally. "The duck here is highly recommended.." he offered, attempting to break the silence.

Song Jia nodded, her eyes fixed on her own menu. "Mm, yes. I’ve heard that too."

Another stretch of silence followed, punctuated only by the soft clink of cutlery from nearby tables and the muted conversations of other diners.

Ming Beicheng cleared his throat softly. "So, how has work been lately?" he asked, falling back on a safe topic.

"Busy," Song Jia replied, her answer clipped. She looked up briefly, then back down at the menu. "And you?"

"Much the same," Ming Beicheng responded, his tone controlled despite the stilted conversation.

The waiter approached, offering a momentary pause from the awkward atmosphere. Ming Beicheng ordered for both of them with practiced ease, his mannerisms were impeccable despite the weight of the uncomfortable situation.

As the waiter left, Ming Beicheng took a sip of water, his mind racing for another topic of conversation. The silence stretched on, feeling heavier with each passing moment. Yet, to any outside observer, Ming Beicheng appeared calm and collected, his posture relaxed and his expression pleasant, masking the discomfort he felt within.

As their appetizers arrived, Ming Beicheng made another attempt at conversation. "The presentation is quite impressive," he remarked, gesturing to the artfully arranged dishes.

Song Jia nodded, picking up her fork. "Yes, it’s very nice."

They ate in silence for a few moments before Ming Beicheng spoke again, his tone carefully neutral. "I heard you’re working on a new menu for the summer season. How’s that coming along?"

Song Jia looked up, seeming slightly more engaged. "It’s... challenging. Balancing traditional flavors with modern techniques is always a delicate process. But I like a challenge, I want miss Tang to be the first to try it once I’ve perfected it."

"Oh, can’t I be your first?" Ming Beicheng replied, offering a grin as his eyes lit up. "Any particular dishes you’re excited about?"

"There’s a reimagined sweetheart cake and red bean paste bun I’m working on.."Song Jia said and fell silent again.

Ming Beicheng waited a second m, hoping she might elaborate, but when she didn’t, he nodded. "That sounds nice as long as you let me be your first taster?"

He smiled as he held her hand.

"Mm...sure."Song Jia hummed noncommittally as she drew her hand back.

Another stretch of silence continued. Ming Beicheng composure finally cracked, he didn’t know how long he could keep this up.

"The weather has been quite pleasant lately," he offered, resorting to small talk.

Song Jia glanced out the window. "Yes, it has."

"Have you had a chance to enjoy it? Perhaps a walk in the park or...?" Ming Beicheng trailed off, leaving room for her to contribute to the conversation.

"Not really," Song Jia replied. "I’ve been busy with work."

Ming Beicheng nodded stiffly. "Of course. The restaurant has been busy this days, it barely allows for much free time."

As the main course arrived, they lapsed into silence once more. Ming Beicheng cut into his steak with practiced ease, his movements graceful and unhurried, giving no outward sign of the awkwardness he felt.

"Fine, fine...I’ll die if this awkwardness continue..."

Song Jia chew on her streak quietly not bothering to spare Ming Beicheng a glance.

Ming Beicheng lips tugged down and he grabbed her hand "Can’t you look at me when I’m talking? Are you sad? Or maybe disappointed? We’re you expecting something?"

Song Jia tried to drew her hand back but Ming Beicheng’s grip only tightened.

"Do you hate me now?"

"I wish I could!"

Song Jia yanked her hand rubbing her wrist gently.

"Well I’m glad you don’t hate me, I’ll be sad if you did.."

"..."

"Why do you care if I hate you or not?!"

As Song Jia stood up abruptly from their table, her chair scraping against the restaurant’s tiled floor, Ming Beicheng felt a pang of regret as he focused on Song Jia’s hurt expression. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something—anything—to stop her, but the words caught in his throat. His conflicted feelings and fear of vulnerability kept him rooted to his seat.

"If that’s all, I should be going," Song Jia said, her voice barely audible over the restaurant’s ambient noise. "I have... plans."

Ming Beicheng nodded mutely, watching as she gathered her purse and jacket. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her hands as she fumbled with her belongings.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop her, to tell her the truth, but he remained silent.

Song Jia paused for a moment at their table, as if giving him one last chance to speak up.

When he didn’t, she turned and weaved her way through the tables, disappearing into the doors.

Once outside, Song Jia took a shaky breath, blinking back the tears.

The thought of going home to an empty apartment, left alone with her thoughts and disappointment, was unbearable. On impulse, she turned away from her usual route home and headed towards a different part of the city.

Before long, she found herself outside a dimly lit bar, just a few blocks from the restaurant where she’d left Ming Beicheng.

The neon sign flickered invitingly, promising a temporary escape from her emotional turmoil.

Song Jia hesitated for a moment, then pushed open the door.

Inside, the bar was a mix of warm lighting and shadows, filled with the low hum of conversation and soft music. Song Jia made her way to the bar, sliding onto a stool and signaling the bartender.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked, noticing the weariness in her eyes.

"Something strong," Song Jia replied, her voice barely audible over the ambient noise. "Very strong."

As the bartender nodded and began preparing her drink, Song Jia stared at her reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. She hardly recognized the woman looking back at her—eyes filled with hurt and confusion, shoulders slumped in defeat.

The bartender placed a glass in front of her, and Song Jia wrapped her fingers around it, the coolness of the glass grounding her. She took a sip, wincing at the burn of alcohol, but welcoming the distraction it provided from the ache in her chest.

In that moment, surrounded by strangers in a dimly lit bar, Song Jia felt more alone than ever. She raised the glass to her lips again, hoping to drown out the echo of Ming Beicheng’s words and the memory of his conflicted eyes.

"Annoying bastard!"

As the evening wore on and the drinks continued to flow, Song Jia’s inhibitions faded and her emotions intensified. The pain in her chest, though dulled by alcohol, still throbbed insistently.

In a moment of drunken impulse, she fumbled for her phone, her nails tapping unsteadily on the screen as she found Ming Beicheng’s number.

With blurry vision, she hit the call button, her heart racing as the phone began to ring. One ring, two rings, three...

"Hello? Song Jia?" Ming Beicheng’s voice came through, a mixture of surprise and concern evident in his tone.

"Ming Bei... Beicheng," Song Jia slurred, her usually composed voice now thick with emotion and alcohol. "Why... why didn’t you say anything? At the... the restaurant?"

"Song Jia? Are you alright? Where are you?" Ming Beicheng’s voice grew increasingly worried as he tried to make sense of her drunken speech.

"No! Not alright!" Song Jia exclaimed, her words running together. "You... you know how I feel. But you just... just sat there. Silent. Like a... like a statue!"

"Song Jia, I—" Ming Beicheng started, but she cut him off.

"No! Listen... listening time now.."she insisted, her voice wavering between anger and sadness. "I’m tired... so tired of pretending. We’re not... not just friends. You know it. I know it. Why can’t you... you just say it?"

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