Double Life, Double Latte
Chapter 16 – Double Life, Double Latte
If anyone had told Isabelle that her first relationship after heartbreak would involve espionage, she would have laughed.
But that was exactly what it felt like.
Not because Aleem was shady.
Not because they were doing anything wrong.
Because their relationship existed in a narrow space between:
real
and
hidden.
And hiding–even for good reasons–turned ordinary things into missions.
Mission: spend time together.
Objective: do not get caught.
Side quest: do not look suspiciously happy.
Isabelle discovered very quickly that she was bad at the last one.
The first “secret date” happened on a Tuesday.
A weekday.
Boring on paper.
But that was the point.
Weekdays were safer.
Weekdays were invisible.
Crystal had Pilates.
Ivan had a work call.
ABIX’s usual group schedule had a gap.
Aleem messaged Isabelle at 4:52 PM.
Aleem: You free after work? 1 hour. If you want.
Isabelle stared at her screen.
Her heart did the stupid flutter again.
She tried to respond normally.
Isabelle: Ok.
Then she paused.
Too cold.
She added:
Isabelle: Where?
Aleem replied:
Aleem: Bugis. Somewhere quiet.
Of course.
Bugis at night was crowded enough to hide in.
Everyone was doing something.
No one cared about two people walking side by side.
Isabelle arrived first.
She waited near a convenience store, pretending to browse snacks.
She checked her phone every thirty seconds.
Not because she didn’t trust Aleem.
Because waiting for someone you liked made you stupid.
Aleem arrived five minutes later.
He wore a plain black tee under a light jacket.
No office shirt.
No work face.
He looked… softer.
Isabelle’s chest tightened.
Aleem stopped in front of her.
“You okay?” he asked.
Isabelle rolled her eyes lightly, trying to act normal.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m waiting for you, not dying.”
Aleem’s lips twitched.
“A bit sassy today,” he observed.
Isabelle’s cheeks warmed.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
Aleem shook his head.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, like he always did.
Then, after a pause:
“Let’s walk,” he said.
Isabelle nodded.
They moved into the crowd.
They chose a café that wasn’t aesthetic.
No influencer lighting.
No couples posing.
Just a small place tucked along a quieter street.
Aleem picked it.
Again.
Isabelle had learned to trust his choices.
He always chose places that let her breathe.
They ordered drinks.
Hot chocolate for Isabelle.
Latte for Aleem.
Then they sat.
Across.
Not beside.
Distance.
Boundaries.
Isabelle wasn’t sure if she liked the distance.
She liked being safe.
But sometimes she wanted to be closer.
Sometimes she wanted to test what “together” felt like in her body.
But she didn’t know how to ask.
And Aleem wasn’t the kind of man who assumed.
So they stayed across.
A table between them like a polite wall.
They talked about the asatizah session.
Isabelle held the booklet she had been given, flipping through it absentmindedly.
Aleem watched her with careful attention.
“How did you feel after?” he asked.
Isabelle hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“Calm,” she said.
Aleem nodded.
“Anything you didn’t like?”
The question startled Isabelle.
She blinked. “You want me to tell you if I didn’t like something?”
Aleem nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “Because this isn’t… a test. I want you to be honest.”
Isabelle’s chest tightened.
Honesty.
He kept making space for it.
Isabelle thought.
“I didn’t dislike anything,” she admitted. “But… I felt scared when she asked if I was afraid of losing myself.”
Aleem’s gaze softened.
“Yeah?”
Isabelle nodded.
“Because it’s true,” she whispered. “I’m scared. I don’t want to disappear.”
Aleem’s voice was low.
“You won’t,” he said.
Isabelle stared.
She didn’t know how he could say it so confidently.
Aleem continued.
“I’m not interested in a version of you that’s small,” he said. “I like you because you’re you.”
Isabelle’s chest tightened.
The sentence was simple.
But it landed deep.
Because her ex had loved the version of her that was easy.
The version of her that adjusted.
The version of her that didn’t ask for too much.
Aleem didn’t want easy.
Aleem wanted real.
Isabelle swallowed.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Aleem nodded.
Silence settled.
Then Isabelle’s phone buzzed.
ABIX group chat.
Crystal: DINNER THIS WEEK? I MISS YOU ALL
Ivan: We just came back from Hokkaido.
Crystal: SO? I MISS YOU
Ivan: Emotionally codependent.
Crystal: YOU LOVE ME
Isabelle stared at the chat.
Her heart did a weird twist.
Because she was lying.
Not about loving ABIX.
About not telling them.
Isabelle glanced up at Aleem.
He saw her expression.
“Group chat?” he asked.
Isabelle nodded.
“I feel bad,” she whispered.
Aleem’s gaze softened.
“I know,” he said.
Isabelle swallowed.
“They’re going to be so angry,” she said.
Aleem shook his head.
“Not angry,” he said. “Shocked. Annoyed. Dramatic. But not angry.”
Isabelle huffed a laugh.
Aleem’s lips twitched.
“Okay maybe Crystal will be angry,” he added.
Isabelle laughed quietly.
Then her laughter faded.
Isabelle’s voice went softer.
“Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” she asked.
Aleem’s answer came steady.
“Yes,” he said. “Because we’re not hiding forever. We’re just… building first.”
Building.
The word felt safe.
Not sneaky.
Not shameful.
Just careful.
Isabelle nodded.
When they left the café, it was already late.
Bugis was still alive.
Lights.
People.
Noise.
They walked side by side.
Isabelle’s fingers tingled.
Her body kept wanting to reach for Aleem.
But she didn’t.
Boundaries.
Public.
Secret.
They stopped at a pedestrian crossing.
The light was red.
They stood close because the sidewalk was narrow.
Isabelle could feel Aleem’s warmth through his jacket.
Her heart thumped.
Aleem didn’t move.
He didn’t touch.
But Isabelle noticed something else.
He was angled slightly toward her.
Like a shield.
Like he was blocking the crowd from bumping her.
A small thing.
But Isabelle felt it.
And the feeling–
being protected without being owned–
made her chest tighten.
The light turned green.
They crossed.
Halfway through, a cyclist zoomed past too close.
Isabelle startled.
Aleem’s hand shot out instinctively.
Not grabbing her.
Not pulling.
Just a firm touch on the back of her elbow, guiding her a step inward.
Isabelle froze.
The contact lasted less than a second.
Aleem withdrew immediately.
His jaw tightened.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Isabelle stared at him.
He was apologizing.
For keeping her safe.
Isabelle’s throat tightened.
“You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered.
Aleem glanced at her.
His eyes were steady.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Isabelle’s breath trembled.
The truth was the opposite.
It made her feel warm.
It made her feel cared for.
It made her want more.
And that–that wanting–was what made her uncomfortable.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it was new.
Because it was dangerous.
Because it meant her heart was opening again.
Isabelle swallowed.
“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” she admitted.
Aleem’s eyes softened.
He nodded.
“Okay,” he said.
They reached Isabelle’s block.
Aleem stopped.
He didn’t step closer.
He didn’t linger like a drama male lead.
He just looked at her.
“You good?” he asked.
Isabelle nodded.
Then, because she had been carrying the thought all night, she blurted,
“This is weird.”
Aleem blinked. “What is?”
Isabelle’s cheeks warmed.
“This… secret thing,” she said. “It feels like… we’re doing something illegal.”
Aleem’s lips twitched.
“It’s not illegal,” he said.
Isabelle huffed. “It feels like it.”
Aleem paused.
Then, unexpectedly, he said,
“Yeah.”
Isabelle blinked.
Aleem’s voice was quiet.
“It does feel like that,” he admitted. “Because ABIX is always together. And now we have… a separate thing.”
Isabelle swallowed.
Aleem looked at her.
His gaze was steady.
“But this is temporary,” he said. “We’ll tell them when we’re ready.”
Isabelle nodded.
She believed him.
And that belief–
trust–
was the most intimate thing between them right now.
Aleem’s voice softened.
“Text me when you’re upstairs,” he said.
Isabelle smiled faintly.
“Okay,” she said.
She turned toward the lift.
Then she stopped.
She turned back.
Aleem was still there.
Waiting.
Watching.
Isabelle’s chest tightened.
She didn’t want to wave.
Waving felt childish.
But she did it anyway.
A small lift of her hand.
Aleem nodded once.
Not dramatic.
But warm.
When Isabelle reached her unit, she texted:
Isabelle: Upstairs.
He replied:
Aleem: Okay. Goodnight, Belle.
Isabelle stared at the message.
Goodnight.
Again.
A simple ritual.
Isabelle hugged her pillow and smiled into it, feeling ridiculous.
Because she was living a double life.
ABIX Belle by day.
Aleem’s Belle in the quiet hours.
And somewhere between double lattes and secret walks, Isabelle realized something:
She wasn’t just surviving anymore.
She was beginning to want.
And wanting–
wanting was the first real sign that her heart was alive.