02
When I got home, exhaustion overwhelmed me. I barely managed to shower before collapsing into bed.
By the time I woke up, it was already midday.
My body felt feverish, and my head throbbed as if it might split.
I checked my temperature. Unsurprisingly, it was a high fever.
Glancing around the empty apartment, I let out a bitter laugh.
Wilson had said he was only driving Gracie home, but he hadn’t returned all night.
I thought, “Isn’t he even trying to keep up appearances anymore?”
As I mulled over this, my phone rang.
Hearing his voice, I couldn’t help but ask, “Does it really take all night to drive someone home?”
His irritation was palpable through the phone.
“Alisha, Gracie’s scared of thunderstorms. I just stayed with her for the night. Nothing happened. Stop making a fuss,” he snapped.
I let out a cold laugh.
He continued, his tone self–assured, “There’s a company gathering tonight. Make some clam chowder this afternoon and bring it over.”
Before I could say anything else, he hung up.
I suddenly recalled when we first started dating.
Wilson’s mother once told me that he struggled to eat meals without soup.
Since then, I had gone out of my way to make soup for him every time I cooked.
I spent hours finding recipes and experimenting with new flavors just to make him happy.
He once told me the thing he looked forward to most each day was drinking the soup I made.
“Alisha,” he’d said with a smile, “my biggest dream is to marry you so I can have your soup every day.”
A wave of dizziness hit me, and I felt like my body might collapse under its weakness.
But then I laughed.
I decided to let go, thinking, “Fine, one last time. Let’s give it a good end. I’d make him his soup and close this chapter.”
After all, there was a time when making soup for him brought me joy.
I forced myself to eat a small piece of bread before heading to the market to buy the ingredients.
Soup takes time. It requires more effort than most dishes.
And this time, like always. I put my heart into it.
12:02 PM
I carefully poured the finished clam chowder into a thermos.
With the soup in hand, I caught a cab to the gathering.
The event was held at a villa party house.
The moment I walked in, the noise overwhelmed me.
The pounding music made my ears ache.
Already weak from my fever, I felt like I could barely stand.
Some colleagues were laughing and playing around.
Others stood in corners, eating quietly with complicated expressions.
I overheard murmurs from a few coworkers.
Apparently, the original venue hadn’t been this noisy.
Wilson had changed it at the last minute just to suit Gracie’s preferences.
On the stage in the middle of the living room, Gracie was dancing energetically in a skimpy dress.
Wilson lounged on a nearby sofa, holding a glass of red wine.
He watched Gracie with a tender smile I hadn’t seen in a long time.
Carrying the thermos, I slowly approached Wilson.
“I made the soup. It’s here. I’ll leave now,” I said quietly.
The aroma caught someone’s attention, and a colleague leaned over. “Wow, what’s that smell? It’s amazing!”
“Did Alisha make this? Mr. Beckett, let us have a taste too!”
“My mouth is watering just from the scent…”
I placed the thermos down and turned to leave.
But Wilson grabbed my wrist. “Wait!” he said.
Then he called out, “Gracie, come here. Didn’t you say you wanted to try Alisha’s soup?”
I froze for a moment.
I realized that this wasn’t for him but was for her.
Gracie’s sweet smile lit up as she sauntered over. “Really? That’s great! I’ve been wanting to try it!”
She looked at me with a playful grin. “Wilson told me you make great soup, Alisha. I’ve been curious for ages!”
Without hesitation, she opened the thermos, poured a small bowl, and took a sip.
I stood silently, watching her.
“Ugh, it’s so salty!” Gracie cried, her face scrunching up in disgust.
She spit the soup back into the thermos instinctively.
The entire pot was ruined, mixed with her saliva.
The colleagues who had looked eager a moment ago froze in shock.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to spit it back out!”
Before Wilson could say anything, Gracie clumsily knocked over the thermos.
Scalding soup spilled onto my thigh.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she whimpered, “I’m so clumsy. Now you can’t even drink it, Wilson.”
Wilson patted her shoulder comfortingly. “It’s fine. It’s just soup. No big deal,” he said.
Then he turned to me, his face sour. “Alisha, how did your cooking get this bad after such a short time?”
“Alisha, I’m so sorry… You’ll forgive me, right?”
Through her teary eyes, Gracie managed to flash me a bright smile.
The women who usually sided with Gracie chimed in.
“Gracie, don’t cry. Mr. Beckett’s so worried about you!”
“Honestly, Alisha can be so petty sometimes.”
12:02 PM
“It’s just soup. Gracie, it’s really not a big deal!”
My heart felt numb.
I couldn’t feel the pain or the humiliation.
I simply turned and walked out, ignoring the mocking laughter behind me.
Outside the villa, my fever had worsened. My forehead burned, and I was on the verge of passing out.
The villa was in a remote area, far from the city. It would take ages to call
Pain gripped my stomach like a drill tearing through my insides.
Just as I felt my legs give out, a voice called out.
“Hey! Aren’t you Ms. Lopez? What are you doing here?”
a
I forced my eyes open and saw a tall, handsome young man looking at me curiously.
Before I could place him, the world went black.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed.
The man was sitting beside me.
Then it clicked.
“You’re… Marshall?” I asked hesitantly.
He was Marshall Castro. He was the son of Jayson Castro, the CEO of the company I was about to join.
We had met once before when I was negotiating my contract with Jayson.
The doctor told me it was fortunate I’d been brought to the hospital in time, or my condition could have worsened.
I thanked Marshall and urged him to return to work, but Marshall insisted on staying to take care of me. When I was discharged, he even drove me home.
Once I got home, I checked my phone.
As expected, there were no new messages.
I smiled bitterly.
If I had died there last night, Wilson probably wouldn’t have noticed.
After taking my medication, I lay in bed, resting while handling some work–related tasks.
Though I wanted to leave everything behind, I had to finish the tasks on my plate properly.
That was when a coworker messaged me.
[Alisha, Mr. Beckett asked me to inform you that the contract with Mr. Castro needs to be expedited. When it’s time for the final signing, you should hand the entire project over to Gracie.]
When I read the message, I wasn’t surprised.
Interns who wanted to secure a position needed a successful project to their name.
Having her take over at the last step was clearly to help her stay.
The contract with Jayson had always been the most crucial deal for our company.
I just hadn’t expected Wilson to so blatantly plan for Gracie to take over the biggest project I’d been handling.
Oddly, I felt very calm.
I organized all the project files and emailed them to Wilson.
In the email, I wrote: [Wilson, it’s over between us.]
Then, I messaged Robyn.
[Robyn, get ready to start at the new company next Wednesday.]
After that, I logged out of my work email and deleted all contacts, including Wilson.
Nine years of love and effort ended the moment I closed my laptop.
12:02 PM
