4. A Comparison

For nearly half the day, I lay in bed, curled up as I stared blankly through the open window. My body felt hot, and I was utterly exhausted even though I hadn't done anything physically demanding.

Fortunately, Jessy wasn't home. She was probably working at her boutique. If she saw me lazing around like this, I was sure she'd pound on my bedroom door and order me to do whatever work could be done. She truly couldn't stand seeing me relax, not even for a minute.

The servants didn't bother me either, mainly because I'd locked my bedroom door from the inside. All I wanted was to rest and calm myself down.

My gaze drifted to the lunchbox lying in the middle of the room. The pain in my chest surged back immediately.

Dylan had truly poured salt into an open wound.

Slowly, I pushed myself upright. I pressed a hand against my forehead.

Hot.

"Hah... I think I have a fever," I muttered.

Using the little strength I had left, I got out of bed and carried the lunch container downstairs. I planned to wash it in the kitchen and grab a cold compress while I was there. However, the sight of Lea busily working at the counter left me puzzled.

"Lea?"

She turned around. Her eyes flicked briefly to the container in my hand before a mocking smile spread across her face.

"I heard you made food for Dylan this morning."

I didn't respond.

Instead of talking to her, I walked to the sink and began washing the container while watching the servants happily help Lea cook.

They looked cheerful chatting with her.

Completely different from how they treated me.

Not a single one of them was willing to do the same with me.

"The servants said Dylan threw your cooking away." Lea leaned toward me. "Dad always says your food tastes great. Has he been lying all this time?"

I pressed my lips together and refused to take the bait.

Arguing with Lea would only create more problems and drain what little energy I had left. My body was already weak. If I added more emotional stress on top of that, my death might come even sooner.

Vallen had advised me not to get stressed. He said emotions could also negatively affect my health.

At the very least, avoiding Lea counted as an effort to prolong my life.

Maybe.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Because it's true?" she sneered.

I chose to leave, but Lea grabbed my arm. Her grip was so tight that I winced in pain.

"Let go of me!" I said firmly.

"Listen, Anna. No matter how hard you try to get Dylan's attention, you'll never have him." She leaned closer until her face was right in front of mine. Then she whispered softly, "Because Dylan would never want a woman like you."

My hands clenched into fists. Slowly, I drew a deep breath, as if that alone could calm the storm raging inside my chest.

"Say whatever you want, Lea. I don't care."

The response made her jaw tighten. She let out an irritated huff. The frustration written all over her face made me realize something.

Lea was afraid of something she never wanted to happen.

I shoved her hand away roughly. Then I hurried back to my room and went back to sleep.

That night, someone knocked on my bedroom door.

I immediately got out of bed and straightened my clothes.

When I opened the door, Jenna stood there wearing a beautiful dress. Her blonde hair was styled neatly.

I tilted my head in confusion. What was she doing here?

"We're inviting you to dinner," Jenna said flatly. There wasn't a trace of emotion on her face. "Change your clothes and come to the dining room now."

The command left no room for refusal.

This was the first time I'd ever joined one of their family meals. Usually, they left me alone in my room. But now...

Wasn't this strange?

Pushing aside my suspicions, I changed into the nicest dress I owned and left my long wavy hair down.

When I went downstairs, I saw the dining table covered with food.

I froze.

The dishes arranged across the table were instantly familiar. Weren't these all the dishes I'd made that morning?

There was no way I could mistake them.

Cream corn soup.

Black pepper steak.

Baked potatoes.

Even the plating was identical.

My eyes shifted toward Lea, who was grinning broadly.

"Why do you look so surprised?"

"How..."

"The servants in this house tell me anything I want to know," she interrupted.

The sound of approaching footsteps made me turn around. Dylan had returned with his secretary. He glanced at me briefly, then walked past without so much as a greeting.

Lea welcomed him with a warm hug.

"Dylan, I cooked for you," she said brightly. "Would you like to have dinner with us? My mom is here too, and..." She pointed her chin at me. "...she's allowed to eat here too, right, Dylan?"

My nails dug into my palms until they hurt. By "she," Lea meant me, didn't she?

So that was why she'd invited me to dinner. She wanted to show me that Dylan would never refuse her.

How ridiculous.

"Hm," Dylan replied shortly.

Lea immediately guided him to the table and made him sit down. She quickly prepared a plate for him and filled it with food. Without asking a servant to taste it first, Dylan immediately began eating Lea's cooking.

I stood there like an idiot.

My chest tightened, and my entire body felt frozen as I watched him eat with obvious enjoyment.

And this morning...

Jenna, who had been quietly watching this cheap little drama unfold, finally spoke. "Seeing you eat so enthusiastically, it must be delicious, right?" Jenna asked. She laughed softly. "Lea is often praised by her father at home for being so talented in the kitchen."

Then she turned to me. "Anna, have a seat. You should appreciate Lea's hard work as well. Maybe you can learn something from her, since Dylan seems to enjoy it very much."

Her voice sounded calm. But every word felt like a knife slowly sinking into me.

I looked at Dylan across the table. He was chewing calmly, completely unbothered. Meanwhile, Lea clung to his side affectionately.

"Dylan," I called.

The dining room, which had been buzzing with compliments moments ago, suddenly fell silent.

Jenna watched me. The servants looked at me with disdain. Lea, sitting across from me, immediately became defensive.

But not Dylan. He remained calm as he studied me.

"What is it?" he asked coldly.

"This morning, you threw away the lunch I made for you. Why?"

Dylan wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Because I didn't like it."

I shook my head. "I don't think it was because of the taste."

Dylan's movement stopped. He looked at me again. Tilting his head slightly, he raised one eyebrow. "Then what was it?"

"I know you don't like me, but is it really so hard to appreciate even a little of the effort I put into it?" I asked, finding the courage to speak.

Lea tried to interrupt, but Dylan stopped her immediately.

He rested both hands on the table. "Anna, did I ask you to do it?" he asked bluntly.

The question left me speechless.

Jenna let out a heavy sigh. She continued eating as though none of this concerned her.

Fortunately, Jessy wasn't here. If she were, I would probably be the target of her ridicule right now.

"But..."

"Just admit you're not a good cook. Dylan said it wasn't good, so accept it. That's his opinion!" Lea chimed in.

"Can we talk alone?" I asked Dylan.

"You're unbelievable, Anna! I..."

"Lea, enough," Dylan rose from his chair and left the dining room.

I followed him to his room and stopped behind him. My chest tightened again, and I struggled to catch my breath.

"I'm adding another day. You didn't fulfill my request properly," I declared.

Dylan turned around. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"What..."

His words died abruptly. The cold expression on his face changed. His eyes fixed on me.

I frowned in confusion. Then I realized something warm was running from my nose.

Quickly, I wiped it away with the back of my hand.

A red stain remained.

Damn it.

I was having a nosebleed in front of Dylan.

I immediately turned away from him.

"The point is, today doesn't count. You failed to fulfill my request. Tomorrow..." I paused, pressing a hand against my nose. "Tomorrow, I want you to eat the food I make. Don't throw it away. You have no idea how hard I worked cooking it since morning."

My hand covered my nose as the bleeding continued.

If he knew about my condition, would Dylan still treat me this way?

Leaving Dylan's room, I hurried back to my own.

The moment the door closed behind me, my body gave out.

I collapsed onto the floor, and for the first time, I truly realized how close death had become.