09

I made spaghetti bolognese and a glass of iced green tea for dinner. Jake hadn't asked for it, but I cooked anyway.

Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was hope.

My arm still hurt from earlier, but I worked through the pain, rubbing it now and then when it throbbed.

Jake had stayed in his room the whole day, and I hadn't heard a word from him.

I wondered where he'd been the night before. Why he looked so drained when he came home.

I knew I didn't have the right to ask but I still worried.

Just as I finished setting the table, a knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

When I opened it, I paused.

Park Serin stood there, dressed in a high-end outfit with a designer bag in hand.

Her expression was unreadable, and she didn't say a word as she stepped past me and into the house without asking.

"What are you doing here?"

I asked, unsure if I was more confused or annoyed.

She ignored me and walked straight to the dining table, eyeing the food I had just prepared.

Without hesitation, she sat down and started eating.

"I'm sorry, but you can't just walk in and help yourself like that,"

I said, trying to stay polite.

Serin stood up and looked at me, then suddenly spat out the food right onto my face.

"You don't get to talk like that,"

she said calmly. "Not with that face."

I stood frozen for a second. I didn't say anything. I just wiped the sauce off my cheek with my sleeve.

Then I heard Jake's voice.

"Serin?"

He appeared from the hallway, pausing when he saw the two of us.

She walked up to him and leaned into his chest, her tone switching instantly.

"Your wife was rude to me. I just had a bite of food, and she flipped out."

"That's not true," I said.

"She spat at me first."

Jake's eyes locked onto mine, sharp and annoyed.

"Are you serious right now?"

he asked.

"Is this what you do when I'm not around? Cause drama for no reason?"

"I wasn't trying to—" I began, but Serin interrupted.

"She's lying."

"I just made dinner," I said, voice quieter now.

"That's all."

Jake looked me over like he didn't even recognize me.

"Don't bother,"

he muttered.

"I'm not interested in whatever this is. You, the food, any of it."

He turned to Serin. "I'll be in the car."

He grabbed his keys and left without another word.

Serin looked back at me, calm and unaffected.

"Whatever role you're trying to play here, it won't work,"

she said. "He's with me. Always has been."

Then she walked to the kitchen and started rinsing her hands like she hadn't just humiliated me.

I stood there for a while in silence, cleaning my face, cleaning the table. Everything felt heavy.

I reminded myself quietly, like it was the only thing I had left to hold onto.

Just three months.

Only three more months.