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Chapter 3

Author: Chuckle Kitty
Mitchell waved frantically. "No, no. Cameron should go."

"That's enough," Janine said impatiently. "We can't keep changing the rules, and he can't throw a fit every time things don't go the way he wants."

By then, people around us started glancing our way.

"Cameron, stop it right now," Janine hissed.

"You know how important this meeting is to me."

"You'll have plenty of other opportunities."

Mr. Langford's assistant glanced at the time. "Ms. Simpson, please decide now."

Without asking me again, Janine took Mitchell straight toward the meeting room. I stood there, watching the door close in front of me.

A little over ten minutes later, Mitchell came out. Mr. Langford had already left through another exit.

Janine got a cup of warm milk from the refreshment table and handed it to me. "Have some. Your stomach's too sensitive to take alcohol on an empty stomach."

I took the cup. She remembered my stomach issue, yet somehow forgot why I had come here in the first place.

"You still care about me, don't you?" I asked.

She froze momentarily. "Of course I do."

"Then why did you give away my opportunity to him?"

"Cameron, it's just a meeting. You already know plenty of people here. Mitchell doesn't even have a job."

I scoffed. "So because he needs it more, I'm supposed to give up my opportunity for him?"

"You're in a much better position than he is. What's wrong with giving him one of your chances?"

I set the cup of milk down on the table beside me. "Janine, you talked about fairness earlier."

She nodded. "I did."

"Is it still fair if the game was rigged from the start?"

Her face fell. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

I didn't expose her right there. It suddenly occurred to me that even if I showed her the chat logs, she would only say she had done it for everyone's sake.

I pulled up the contact I had added that afternoon for a possible transfer. Their message was still there.

[There's an opening at our Rosemont branch. You could start after the holiday. If you're interested, I can put your name down for the position.]

I replied, [Please do. Thanks.]

After sending it, I deleted Janine's name from my emergency contacts.

…

Two days before the trip, Janine started packing again. She put sunscreen, a light jacket, and mosquito patches into her suitcase one by one.

"Marisport gets really sunny, and Mitchell's skin is prone to allergic reactions. I've packed everything he'll need. Don't forget to remind him to apply his medication at night."

I was sorting through my documents when I heard that. My hand stopped in mid-air. "You remember his medication better than he does."

Janine lowered her head and fastened her suitcase. "He hasn't been doing well lately, and it's his first time going to Marisport. I just picked everything up while I was at it."

"I thought he booked his own room."

"He said he didn't feel comfortable staying by himself, so I canceled his room and upgraded us to a two-bedroom suite. It'll be more convenient if we stay together."

I looked up at her. "Wasn't this supposed to be a trip for just the two of us?"

She paused. "It's just one extra person. It'll be more fun that way."

As she spoke, she opened the cabinet and pulled out my favorite snacks. "Got you your favorites. I'll put them in the car and give them to you on the way."

I looked at the suitcase by her feet. There were no sugar-free drinks or wrist braces for me. Instead, she had packed two bags of the fruit gummies Mitchell liked.

At night, Janine suddenly said, "I know we're supposed to set our wedding date during the trip, but let's do it after we get back."

"What about Rosemont?"

"We'll go next time."

"When will the things I want finally matter?"

The warmth on her face slowly faded. "Cameron, do you have to bring this up over dinner?"

"You brought up the wedding first."

"I only said we'd talk about it once we get back. I never said we weren't getting married," she said, frowning.

"But you couldn't even respect where I wanted to go for the holiday."

"It's just a trip. Getting married is what really matters." She nudged the bowl toward me. "Stop making a fuss and drink your soup."

As I watched the steam rise from the bowl, I couldn't taste a thing.

…

After dinner, Janine got a call from work and had to go back to the office to pick up a document. Before she left, she glanced at the suitcases by the door.

"Just clear your thoughts and get some sleep. I'll be back as soon as I grab the document."

Once the door closed behind her, I opened the closet and packed my ID, bankbooks, and a few changes of clothes into an old suitcase.

I moved slowly. Part of me was afraid she would suddenly walk back through the door. Another part was afraid she wouldn't notice what I was doing at all.

A framed photo of us at the beach sat on the nightstand. In it, she had an arm around my shoulders, beaming earnestly. I turned the frame face down on the table.

My phone chimed. Janine had texted.

[Don't forget to get Mitchell some motion-sickness medicine tomorrow. He said he's run out at home.]

I stared at it for a long time before replying, [Buy it yourself.]

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