Chapter 9
In the dim theater, the big screen flickered with scenes from a romantic love story. Clive reached into his bag and pulled out a box, offering it to me with a hint of excitement.
“Picked this up while I was abroad for work a few days ago–a birthday gift for you.”
He smiled softly, carefully clasping a luxurious necklace around my neck.
I was surprised he‘ d remembered my birthday and couldn’t help but murmur,
“This must’ve been expensive?”
“No worries. I never think about the cost, especially when it’s for someone who deserves the very best.”
A lump formed in my throat and my eyes began to well up. I suddenly understood the saying, “To some, you‘ re just a weed; to
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others, you‘ re a treasure.”
Since my parents passed, it had been years since anyone remembered my birthday.
Each
year, Thomas brushed it off with the excuse of having a “bad memory.”
We’d known each other fifteen years and he could remember every detail, even Jessica‘ s parents‘ wedding anniversary–but
somehow, he’d never manage to remember mine.
That night, with a single kiss, Clive and I confirmed our relationship.
I was not great with alcohol and after two whiskies, I was already clinging to him, insisting he take me home. Being the gentleman he was, Clive immediately called for a designated driver to get me back safely.
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Just as we arrived at my complex, we ran into Thomas at the entrance.
He was coming downstairs to take out the trash, wearing an apron, his face unshaven and smelling like cooking oil. There was no trace of the refined, privileged young man he used to be.
I’d heard that his father had given him an ultimatum: break up with Jessica, or risk having all his accounts frozen, even his properties seized.
A man who once claimed to be a “true romantic” who “couldn’t care less about money” had severed ties with his family, quit the company and was content to stay home as Jessica‘ s live–in cook.
Remarkable, really, for someone who‘ d
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Chapter 9
never set foot in a kitchen before, who
didn’t even know whether to add the
noodles or the water first when making
instant ramen.
He noticed the birthday cake I was holding, the one Clive had made specially for me.
“Today’s your birthday?” Thomas asked, only just realizing it.
He stepped in front of me, blocking my way, his face clouded with jealousy as he glared at the man behind me.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Our eyes met.
I had no intention of dragging this conversation out; I just wanted to get home
and fall asleep.
Thomas glanced furiously in Clive’s
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Chapter 9
direction and ordered me, “Tell this stray to
get lost. I’ll go up and make you some birthday noodles–I can cook all kinds of homemade dishes now.”
His phony offer made me snap. “Watch your mouth. He’s my boyfriend.”
“What did you say?” Thomas stood there, stunned, unable to believe it.
“I’m in a relationship. He’s kind, caring and so much better than you ever were.”
“I don’t believe you‘ d move on so quickly. Everyone knows you were hopelessly in love with me.”
With that, he reached out, trying to pry
Clive’s arm from around my waist. In the middle of his grabbing, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.
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Chapter 9
The sound of it rang through the air.
“Enough, you lunatic.”
Thomas looked utterly shocked. He’d never thought I’d stand up to him like that.
“Cheryl, you’ve changed. You never got angry with me before, no matter how much I messed up. And now you‘ re hitting me over some guy you‘ ve only known for a few days?”
“Good, then you understand. If you insult Clive again, this slap will be the least of it.”
