Page 31 of Strictly Against Policy

“No.” Her answer was a sharp quip. “They’re not calling for anything important anyway. It’s nothing serious.”

Silence slipped into the moving truck as I heard her swallow hard.

“Sorry,” I finally spoke up, “I didn’t mean to pry earlier when I glanced at your phone. I shouldn’t have.”

Lina shifted in her seat, staying quiet for another moment. And then, another. I could hear her swallow again as if she wanted to say something to me. I didn’t press. I just allowed her to take her time.

“Just admit it, Jonathan. You’re curious about my family,” her low voice murmured softly.

It was my turn to swallow the burning shame in my throat down to the pit of my stomach, weighing me further into my seat. I ducked my head slightly. “Sorry.”

“Considering how much you’ve pushed your way into helping me and all. With my brother and today, I suppose it’s only normal for you to want to know more,” she said.

“You don’t have to tell me, Lina. It’s fine.” My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “You can tell me when you’re ready. Or never at all. You don’t have to explain yourself or your situation to me. I’m sure it isn’t easy.”

“No, it isn’t.” She paused for a long time before her quiet voice continued. “It’s alright, Jonathan. I don’t blame you for being curious. It’s just . . . my family isn’t like yours. They’re not like your sister or the Hughes twins. They’re not warm and friendly. They’re not calling because there’s an emergency or because they want to check in on me.

“They’re calling because they probably want something from me. They’re demanding and insistent. Worse of all, they don’t respect my boundaries. My brother has been stalking and harassing me for more than half a year, and no one in my family has done anything to stop him.”

Her words dwindled into a long, exhausted breath as if some of the weight on her shoulders rolled off with each bit she revealed.

“And you love them. A lot, too,” I said gently.

I could tell just from the way she had refused to call the police to control the situation between her brother and her. It was clear as day. She loved her family immensely.

Lina’s breath trembled slightly. “Of course. I try my best.”

“You’re good, Lina. I don’t think you need to try any harder,” I nodded. “If anything, you should try calling the police if your brother ever shows up to your townhouse and threatens your safety.”

She scoffed as I muttered the stupid joke. “Well, now you know. Now you don’t need to be curious about my brother, or my family, or me, anymore. But please . . . make sure to keep this between us.”

“I’d never tell anyone about the details of your life, Lina. Don’t worry. No one will ever know. Not my friends. Not my family. And never our pharm techs. My lips are sealed,” I said.

“Forever?” she asked.

I nodded. “Forever.”

“Even at work?” Curiosity now dripping from her voice.

I laughed. “Nope. Never at work. Only when it comes to you and your family.”

Lina hummed softly. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see her nod. “Thank you, Jonathan, for everything.”

“You’re welcome, Lina.”

For the rest of the ride, silence was the only sound occupying the space between the two of us. Every time I glanced at her at a stoplight, she was always looking out the window. But there was a moment, or two, when our eyes met in the reflection of the glass. She’d look away and so did I.

“Who’d have thought you’d be moving into the same gated community as Andy and Julie!” laughed Anthony as he closed the door to the truck. Andy easily unloaded the last box.

Lina shuffled on her feet, blushing. “I’ll take that,” she said to Andy with her arms outstretched.

He ducked away from her. “No worries. I’ll handle it.”

Her face turned a brighter shade of red as she muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

Andy smiled at her. “You can thank me by coming over and having lunch with us. My wife and sister-in-law are making phở for us.”

When I asked Lina to have lunch with us earlier in the truck, she answered with a definitive, ‘No.’ When Anthony brought up the same thing later, she replied with a gentle ‘I’ll think about it.’ However, with Andy⁠—