Chapter 3

The next afternoon, Jillian called me before 7:00 pm for the first time.

When my phone lit up, I was crouched by the bathroom door and throwing up. My stomach was painfully empty, and the acid reflux burned my throat.

I answered, my voice hoarse. "What's wrong?"

It was quiet on Jillian's end. "Bring the white shirt from your closet to my office."

I had bought the shirt last month for a job interview, and the tags were still on it.

"What do you need my shirt for?" I asked.

There was a brief pause on the other end.

"Jesse spilled coffee on his shirt," Jillian replied. "He has a project presentation in half an hour, and your shirt will be perfect."

I used the sink to pull myself up, and another sharp cramp hit my stomach.

"I'm not feeling well," I said.

"Steven." When she said my name, her voice was firm. "Don't make a scene at a time like this. Just bring the shirt over. It won't take long."

In the end, I went anyway.

It was raining outside, and I waited 20 minutes for a cab.

I held the shirt close to my chest to keep it dry, while the lower half of my pants got soaked.

When I reached the lobby of Holt Group, Jesse came down to meet me. He looked flustered, with coffee stains on the collar of his shirt.

"Sorry to make you come all this way, Steven," he said.

He reached out to shake my hand, then paused when he touched my skin.

"Steven, why are your hands so cold? Are you feeling sick?"

Before I could answer, he lowered his eyes.

"It's all my fault. If I had known you weren't feeling well, I would've stopped Ms. Holt from calling you."

He said it so casually, as if he hadn't been able to stop the call, and I had chosen to stand in the rain.

When Jillian stepped out of the elevator, she happened to hear the last sentence.

Her gaze fell on me.

"Where's the shirt?"

She didn't ask why I was soaked or why my face was so pale.

I handed her the bag.

Jesse hesitated, then said, "Ms. Holt, maybe we should forget it. Steven looks really unwell."

Jillian frowned at me. "If you're feeling sick, go sit somewhere. Don't stand in the lobby making a scene."

The air conditioning in the lobby seemed to chill me to the bone.

When Jesse came out in the fresh shirt, several coworkers were standing by the conference room door.

One of them joked with a grin. "Mr. Cohen, you must work out a lot. That shirt really shows off your build."

Jillian glanced at Jesse without thinking, then quickly looked away.

Jesse's ears turned red. He glanced sideways at me but didn't explain right away.

Once they were done laughing, he finally cleared his throat and said, "Don't get the wrong idea. This shirt belongs to Ms. Holt's husband."

His coworkers only noticed me then. "Ms. Holt's husband?"

One of them stared in surprise. "Ms. Holt is married?"

I thought Jillian would introduce me to everyone.

Instead, she handed Jesse some documents and said flatly, "Steven is just here to drop something off."

Those few words made three years of marriage feel like nothing.

Jesse quickly tried to smooth things over. "Yeah, he's Ms. Holt's husband."

He glanced down at the shirt he was wearing.

"I didn't want to bother him, but Ms. Holt said Steven was generous and wouldn't mind lending me a shirt at the last minute."

Jillian didn't deny it. She only glanced at me. "Go home for now. Don't distract Jesse from his presentation."

Just before the elevator doors closed, Jesse suddenly looked up at me.

The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.

I stood there, soaked and dripping, feeling like an outsider who was only here to make a delivery.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Jillian. [Don't wait for me at 7:00 pm tonight. We have a project review after the meeting.]

I stared at the message and suddenly felt that even replying would be a waste of my time.

When I left the office building, it was still raining.

I stood by the roadside, opened a law firm's appointment page, and tapped "Confirm".