I Wish You Well In Your Next Love, My Love

“Huaaah…!”

I opened my eyes beneath the blazing sunlight shining down on my face.

At a time of year when sunrise came late, the sun being this bright meant that I had severely overslept.

I made do with bread for breakfast and put on several layers of clothing.

After walking for a long time without stopping once, I arrived at the street where the bookstore was located.

The street, which was normally crowded with shops and passersby, was quiet now.

After confirming the <Closed> sign hanging in front of the bookstore, I pressed my forehead against the front window.

“Surely he didn’t forget about me.”

I was glaring fiercely into the dark bookstore with my eyes wide open when it happened.

“Miss?”

Flinch.

Surprised by the voice calling me, I spun around.

The bookstore owner seemed startled as well and pushed up the glasses that had slipped beneath the bridge of his nose.

“You’re here!”

“I didn’t expect you to come this early. I’m glad I came out just in case.”

“Ah.”

When I thought about it carefully, we had never agreed on a time.

I had gotten excited all by myself and rushed to the bookstore the moment I woke up.

“It’s cold, so let’s go inside first.”

The owner unlocked the door with a key. I gave him a small bow as he held the door open and stepped inside. The <Closed> sign was still hanging outside, but the lights inside the bookstore came on.

“Um, I really can see the next volume, right? I couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

“…Is that book really so interesting?”

“My thoughts on it can’t be explained by saying it’s simply interesting.”

“I read it straight through from the beginning too, but the content was too embarrassing.”

When the owner entered the storage room at the back of the bookstore, I followed him and waved away the dust flying toward my face.

“Are you sure you read it carefully? The explicit descriptions are merely expressions of the protagonists’ inner trauma. I understood them once I kept reading.”

“…What else did you like about it?”

“Haa, where should I even begin?”

For some reason, the corners of my mouth twitched. I rubbed my palms together and took a moment to choose my words.

“Anything. Take your time.”

“The hatred they feel for each other because of a misunderstanding, and the process of being instinctively drawn to each other despite that, are portrayed with incredible delicacy. Not only that, but the descriptions pierce the depths of human nature so sharply that they gave me chills. They made me wonder if the author was an anthropologist. Then there are each protagonist’s convictions and the sense of immorality in having a physical relationship while betraying her deceased husband. There isn’t a single boring sentence! And also…”

I poured out all the thoughts I had kept to myself because I had no one to tell.

By the time I finally finished sharing my impressions, I was slightly out of breath.

I even felt flushed, as though something inside me had been released.

He had asked me the question himself, but had he even been listening? The owner, who had been crouching and searching through something for quite a while, finally stood.

His fair, plump face had turned bright red.

“I wrote that book!”

The owner suddenly shouted.

His voice was so loud that the small storage room seemed ready to burst, and my ears rang for a moment.

Riiing. Only after the ringing faded did I understand what he had said.

I opened my eyes so wide they felt ready to pop out and covered my mouth with one hand.

“You’re the author?!”

The owner awkwardly rubbed beneath his nose once and held out the next volume to me.

For a book that had only just been published, the cover already bore marks from being handled.

“My name is Ruben Zadrick. My pen name is ‘Rick.’”

The pen name didn’t suit his face, but that wasn’t important right now.

Was this plain-looking man standing before me truly the person who had written such an intensely stimulating novel that it seemed harmful to the brain? I was confused by the shock and bewilderment.