The sunlight slipping through the curtains was too bright for her aching eyes. She opened them slowly, only to shut them again when a sharp throb struck her temple. She groaned, turned to her side, and pulled the comforter tighter around her. Her throat felt raw, and her entire body ached like it had been dragged across gravel.
She had no idea what time it was. But it didn't matter. She had no intention of going to work today. She didn't plan to get up at all unless she absolutely had to.
Her phone buzzed faintly on the nightstand.
She frowned, reaching for it with sluggish fingers. The screen glared against her sensitive eyes. No message from Troy nor Danica. Just a silent reminder about the final RSVP deadline for the company's anniversary.
A breath escaped her lips, defeated. She dropped the phone beside her.
"You pathetic woman," she muttered, voice rough from sleep. "You're not even sick. You're just being stupid."
Tears welled up again, but she blinked them away. She wasn't going to cry over a fever, not when the real pain came from not hearing a word from the man she had cried over again last night.
She dragged herself out of bed and shuffled toward the bathroom. Each step felt heavier than the last, her muscles sore, her head pounding. When she reached the mirror, she hardly recognized the woman staring back. Pale lips, puffy eyes, and a messy bun hanging by a thread. She let out a dry, bitter laugh.
She opened the medicine cabinet, grabbed two paracetamol, and swallowed them without water. Crawling back into bed, she wrapped herself tightly in the blankets and shut her eyes. Still, even with her body failing her and her heart feeling like it was barely holding together, she kept checking her phone.
What exactly was she expecting? He may doesn't even know you didn't come in today. And if he did? He still wouldn't care. He probably spent the night with Trina. For all she knew, they had made up and were celebrating it somewhere far from where she existed.
"Come on, Maxine," she muttered. "You're all you've got."
Danica would come if she asked but she didn't want pity. She needed to get through this alone.
A knock at the door interrupted the silence.
She froze in place.
Who could that be?
Pulling her robe around her, she made her way to the door and looked through the peephole.
A delivery guy.
Her forehead creased. She hadn't ordered anything.
Opening the door slightly, she asked, "Yes?"
"Delivery, ma'am," the man at the door said, handing her a warm paper bag.
Her brows knitted. The logo on the bag was from her favorite restaurant, the one she had planned to order from yesterday before everything spiraled.
"Who sent this?" she asked.
"He didn't say his name ma'am. Just left instructions to deliver it here."
She accepted the bag. "Thanks."
He gave a polite nod and left.
She walked slowly to the couch, set the bag down, and stared at it. Part of her wanted to feel touched. Another part of her wasn't sure if she should be suspicious.
Her phone buzzed again.
From: Seymour
Have you received it?
She stilled.
So it was him.
And for a second, she hated herself for hoping it was someone else.
Of course, Troy didn't even know she wasn't at work.
She hadn't expected Seymour to do something like this. Maybe Danica had told him, she had mentioned a headache on the phone last night. Knowing Danica, her concern likely slipped out.
To Seymour:
Yes. Thank you.
No response, just the read notification.
She sighed, forcing a weak smile. She opened the bag.
Warm miso soup, tuna sashimi, and gyoza. All of her comfort food.
She took a bite, then another. Before she realized it, she had eaten half the meal. Her body needed it.
She leaned back and wiped her mouth with a napkin. For the first time that day, the loneliness in her chest felt less crushing. After cleaning up, she reached for her laptop and checked her email.
Nothing.
Weird.
Not even a quick question from the intern who usually asked too much. No follow-ups about the anniversary event either.
Her head throbbed again. She shut the laptop and laid back down.
Her phone rang.
It was her Mom.
She pinched her nose to stop herself from sneezing and answered. "Mom?"
"Hey honey. How are you doing over there?"
"I'm fine. How are you and Dad?"
"Wait—your voice. Are you sick?"
"Just a headache, Mom," she said quickly, hoping to ease the worry she already heard in her mother's tone. If she wasn't careful, her mom might send someone to check in on her.
"Are you sure? Your birthday's coming up. Want to go abroad or do you have plans with Danica?"
"I don't know yet. I've got a lot going on at work. Maybe I'll just treat myself to something and then come visit you over the weekend."
"Alright, sweetheart. I'll prepare your favorites. Or we could throw a party, if you want?"
She chuckled softly. "You know how I feel about attention. I'd rather just be with you guys."
"Okay, okay. It's your day. Do whatever makes you happy. I need to go now—our flight's in two hours. I got you something, by the way."
Her parents were always abroad. She had grown used to it. Their construction business was expanding overseas. They had asked her to help with management, especially now that Marco had his own firm. But she had declined, it wasn't her calling.
"Take care, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me."
After the call ended, she stared up at the ceiling.
She missed them. Maybe she should spend her birthday with them this year. Maybe surrounding herself with family would help dull everything else she wanted to forget.
Her thoughts drifted back to Seymour and the lunch. Maybe he really was just being kind.
She let out a breath and shut her eyes.
Just as her body began to loosen, the phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
I wanted to knock. I just… didn't know if I still had the right to.
Her eyes flew open.
The message stared back at her.
Her heart jumped.
She reached for the screen, fingers trembling.
Before she could even tap out a reply, a second notification popped up-you can't reply to this conversation.
The number was gone.
And for the first time that day, it wasn't the fever that made her head spin.