I’d originally planned on visiting the store by myself to buy a couple books to help with advice requests that’d come in recently for Dear Karl. But Celeste asked to tag along, saying she’s been meaning to pick up some photography books for a while now.

I’ve always loved bookstores, and my good mood is only amplified by the comforting smell of old books. The store’s high ceilings and brightly colored walls are a huge bonus, and I find myself humming cheerfully as I browse the shelves. As we walk around together, Celeste smiles and points out various fun-looking books.

Even though I’m technically here for work, I can’t help but sneak glances at Celeste, observing how the overhead lights of the store reflect in her deep, dark eyes. I think I’m being sneaky, but a few minutes later, she meets my gaze and smiles. “What?”

“Just looking,” I say.

Her grin widens. “For books or at me?”

“Both.”

“Uh-huh. Find anything interesting?”

I hold up the book about breakups I’d been carrying in the crook of my arm.

Celeste reads the title with raised eyebrows. “Ouch, are you thinking of ending things with me already?” she asks in an obviously joking tone.

I laugh. “Please. We’d have to be in a relationship for me to do that. It’s for work. A lot of people broke up over the holidays and wrote in to our column. I usually know what to say, but I like to read books like this from time to time, so I can have more ideas on how to handle certain situations.”

“Makes sense,” Celeste replies with a nod.

We don’t say much else after that, and at some point, we even drift away from each other to look at different sections. But instead of being awkward, everything feels natural, like we’re two boats drifting closer and farther away from each other with the gentle ebb and flow of the tide.

I’m still browsing books when Celeste approaches me again, carrying a large stack.

“I think I’m done,” she says. “Ready to go whenever you are, but no rush.”

Curious, I peer down at the books in her hands. Most of them are about photography, but there are also a couple of pink and yellow books at the bottom that catch my eye.

I freeze. “Are those romance novels? You still like those?”

Celeste’s face reddens. “Yup.”

My brain short-circuits. “How—what—”

I don’t continue my train of thought. I can barely process the fact that present-day “I don’t do relationships” Celeste Min still likes romance books.

“Hm?” Celeste says.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I say slowly. “There’s nothing wrong with liking them. But…”

“But?”

I hesitate, trying my best to form my confusion into words. “How can someone who still loves romance novels so much… be so against relationships?”