chapter 11

Meanwhile, Daryl sped down the city streets toward the airport, his face dark, his mind in chaos. Every moment with Clara felt emptier than the last.

Back in the apartment, Cheesy stood alone, hugging her frail body, trying to suppress the pain that was quietly eating her from the inside. She stared at the gloomy sky outside the window, letting her thoughts drift.

Suddenly, a burning sensation crept up her throat.

"Cough... cough..."

What began as a light cough soon turned into an uncontrollable fit. Her chest tightened, her breath caught.

Cheesy clutched her chest, trying to stay upright, but her legs wobbled.

"Cough! Cough!"

With each cough, her body shook violently. Then, without warning, blood spilled from the corner of her lips.

She stared at the crimson on her palm, gasping for air.

"Damn it..." she muttered, her body weakening.

She had forgotten—her medication had run out. She’d been postponing buying more for three days due to lack of money.

"Idiot," she whispered, forcing herself toward the couch, searching her worn-out bag.

With trembling fingers, she pulled out her phone and hastily called for an online taxi.

While waiting, she tried to steady herself, though her vision swam.

A car horn finally sounded outside. Cheesy dragged herself out of the apartment, each step stabbing pain through her chest.

Inside the car, the driver glanced at her worriedly through the rearview mirror.

"Miss, are you okay?" he asked, hesitant.

Cheesy forced a weak smile. "I’m fine. Take me to XX Hospital," she rasped.

Without further questions, the driver hit the gas.

All the way, Cheesy held in her coughs, trying to keep the blood down. She pressed a tissue to her lips, trying not to alarm the driver.

'Hold on, Cheesy.'

The car pulled up to the ER entrance.

Cheesy nearly collapsed as she stepped out. A few nurses who saw her rushed over immediately.

"Nurse! Here! Get a stretcher!" one of them shouted.

Cheesy felt herself being lifted onto the stretcher, her body growing lighter. The voices around her faded, becoming distant echoes.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

Just before her consciousness slipped away, one last thought passed through her mind:

'If I die tonight, will Daryl come looking for me? He probably will... I just signed his contract.'

Cheesy smiled faintly, then slowly closed her eyes.

At the Airport

Daryl stood still near the international arrivals gate, his eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar figure.

Then—emerging from the crowd—came Clara.

“Daryl!” she called out the moment she spotted him. The beautiful woman jogged over and immediately threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

Daryl nearly lost his balance. Clara gave him a quick kiss on the lips—brief but full of longing.

“Oh my God, I missed you so much!” she said, gazing into his eyes, hers sparkling with joy.

Daryl offered a small smile. “I missed you too, Clara.”

“You look tired,” Clara said, gently caressing his cheek. “But still handsome.”

“Yeah, I’ve been chasing deadlines,” Daryl replied curtly, his voice slightly hoarse.

Clara picked up her suitcase and nudged his shoulder playfully. “Let’s go. I just want to crash at your place. And cuddle all day.”

Daryl only nodded, his smile barely there.

At the Daryl Family Mansion – Westchester County

The Daryl family mansion stood grand and proud, with manicured gardens and a small pond in front of the porch. As their car pulled up, Elsa and Rico—Daryl’s parents—were already waiting at the front door.

“Clara, darling!” Elsa greeted, pulling her into a warm embrace. “How have you been?!”

“I’ve been great! I missed you so much, Auntie!” Clara replied, kissing her on both cheeks.

Rico chuckled. “You’ve grown even more beautiful, Clara. Daryl must be falling harder for you.”

“Oh, Uncle, you’re embarrassing me,” Clara giggled.

While everyone was caught up in hugs and cheerful conversation, Daryl stood back silently, occasionally glancing down at his phone.

Still no message from Cheesy.

After escorting Clara to the guest room and having a brief chat with his parents, Daryl excused himself.

“Babe, I have to head back to the apartment. I’ve got work I haven’t finished yet,” he said flatly.

“Now?” Clara asked, surprised.

“Just for a bit,” Daryl said, kissing her forehead. “Get some rest.”

***

It was late by the time Daryl returned to his apartment. He flung the door open and slammed it shut behind him.

“Cheesy!” he called out.

Silence.

Daryl’s eyes swept across the room. The sofa was empty. The bedroom was silent. Not a sound.

He reached for his phone and tried calling her.

“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.”

Daryl stared at the screen, his expression darkening. He called again. This time, it went straight to voicemail.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

He stormed into the bedroom, looking around. No sign of Cheesy.

“Cheesy!” he shouted again, louder this time.

Still no answer. Daryl rushed to the table, grabbed his phone again, and dialed Very.

“Do you know where Cheesy is?” he barked.

“Huh? Isn’t she with you, Sir?”

“She’s not. Her phone’s off too.”

“Uh... I have no idea, Mr. Daryl.”

Daryl said nothing. His grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with frustration.

Then suddenly—

CRASH!

The phone smashed against the wall, shattering into pieces.

Daryl stood frozen, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He stared at the broken pieces on the floor.

“Where did you go, Cheesy…” he muttered.

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Cheesy, you can’t just run away from me. I spent six years trying to survive without you. It was enough that you left me back then—never again! I won’t let you leave me again. Never!”

His voice cracked.

“Even if I say I hate you… the truth is…”

Daryl’s eyes turned red. Unnoticed, tears had begun to fall down his face.

His love for Cheesy was so deep, it made it nearly impossible to let go of the woman who once shattered him.