Suddenly, my appetite vanished. I didn’t feel like forcing myself anymore.

“Excuse me,” I called to the waiter, “Can you take this dish off the table? I’ll pay for it separately.”

But before the waiter could move, Simon pulled the plate toward himself. “Oh come on, I missed a few days at the hospital and now you’re acting like a drama queen? Maybe if you were watching where you were going, you wouldn’t have ended up getting hit by a car.”

I had seen him when he actually cared about me. So now, it was painfully obvious—he didn’t anymore.

Once, when I had a fever, he carried me on his back through the freezing night to the ER, crying the whole way. And now? He hit me with a car and didn’t even bother showing up.

He knew I hated bitter melon. For years, he never ordered or brought home anything remotely bitter. And now suddenly, like it was five years ago and we’d just met, he ordered bitter melon again.

I curled my lips into a tired smile. “I really hate bitter melon. I can’t even stand the smell.”

“Then don’t eat it,” he snapped. “Simple.”

The irritation in his tone was obvious. But I kept my smile polite. “I think… we should—”

Before I could finish the sentence, a woman walked up to our table.

“Simon, after all these years, you still remember I love bitter melon!”

I looked up calmly at the woman standing in front of me—flawless makeup, expensive clothes, her chin slightly raised as she looked down at me with thinly veiled disdain.

Without waiting for permission, she pushed Simon inward on the booth and slipped into the seat right across from me—shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Let me introduce myself,” she said, her voice as sweet as syrup. “I’m Simon’s girlfriend. Sean Michelle.”

I didn’t say a word. She leaned in closer to him, brushing her arm against his and gave me a sideways glance.

“Simon, aren’t you going to introduce her? She’s…”

Simon’s face stiffened. Clearly, Sean’s sudden appearance had caught him off guard. His eyes darted nervously to mine. I almost laughed.

“Meggy Klindsey. I work for Mr. Gudrick’s company,” I said smoothly. “The restaurant was full, so we’re just sharing a table.”

His head whipped toward me, panic flashing in his eyes for just a second—before he exhaled in relief.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he nodded quickly. “This is Meggy. One of my employees.”

Sean smiled like a cat with a mouse trapped under its paw.

“Ms. Klindsey must be extremely talented, then. I’ve never seen Simon eat at the same table with any woman besides me.”

She then placed her phone down next to her wine glass, nudging it slightly forward like it was accidental. But the message was loud and clear.

I caught a glimpse of her messenger profile photo. It matched Simon’s. A couple profile. Even their outfits today were matching—same color palette, coordinated down to the watch bands. Luxury. Designer. Deliberate.

Under the soft restaurant lighting, they looked picture-perfect. Like a magazine spread. I set my chopsticks down and stood up. Sean grabbed my wrist—her long manicured nails digging into my skin just out of his sight.

“Miss Klindsey, you’re leaving already? Did I say something wrong?” Her eyes shimmered with fake regret. “Let me apologize, okay?”

I wasn’t in the mood to play games with a girl pretending to be all sugar and innocence. I yanked my hand out of her grip.

Just as I was checking my wrist, where her nails had actually drawn blood, she suddenly swung her own hand and smacked a nearby little boy on the face. The child’s wail rang through the restaurant. He clutched his cheek and started sobbing uncontrollably.

Sean’s face turned pale, her eyes wide with fake horror. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Simon jumped in, apologizing profusely to the parents and immediately transferring money to cover damages. But then, the little boy suddenly pointed at me.

“It was her! She swung the lady’s hand and made her hit me! She should say sorry!”

Sean immediately gave me a look of deep hurt. “Miss Klindsey… I don’t know what I did to upset you. If you have a problem with me, just take it out on me. Please, don’t drag innocent people into this…”

Gasps and whispers rippled through the restaurant. I could feel the heat of their judgmental stares on my back.

Simon turned toward me and glared. “What are you standing there for?” he barked. “Apologize. Now! Stop making a scene.”

Like I was the one who embarrassed him. Like I was the one out of line.

Backed by the adults, the little boy suddenly ran over and bit my hand—hard—and refused to let go. The more gently Sean tried to coax him, the deeper his little teeth sank in.

I couldn’t exactly fight a child, could I? So, swallowing my pride, I apologized to him. But Simon still wasn’t satisfied. He didn’t notice the blood trickling from the bite on my hand. Didn’t notice the pain on my face. All he cared about was saving face for someone else.

He grabbed my arm as I tried to leave.

“Meggy,” he barked, “Apologize. To Sean.”

Sean put on a delicate, self-sacrificing face and tugged lightly at his sleeve. “Simon, let it go, it’s not a big deal… I mean, I’m fine. It’s just the little boy who got hurt and probably scared.”

His eyes immediately locked on the red imprint forming on the back of her hand. He was heartbroken. So he turned to me—and without warning, shoved my injured hand into a bowl of hot soup that had just arrived at the table.

The soup wasn’t boiling, but it had to be at least 60 degrees. The salt from the broth seeped into the fresh bite wound, making my skin burn with a sharp, electric pain that radiated up my arm. My whole body trembled involuntarily.

“Meggy, what is wrong with you?” Simon hissed. “You need to be taught a lesson!”

“Is that who I am to you?” I asked quietly, through clenched teeth.

I already knew the answer, but I still couldn’t help myself from asking. Around us, whispers started rising.

“Wait—so which one is his actual girlfriend?”

“Are you blind? Obviously the one he’s protecting! You don’t wear matching designer outfits unless it’s official.”

Their eyes turned toward me, heavy with pity.

“Hey man, enough is enough,” one diner muttered. “Another few seconds and you’re gonna boil her hand off!”

I stood there, lips pale and trembling, yet somehow… smiling. I looked Simon in the eye. And for once, he looked uneasy. Finally, he let go of my hand. Took Sean by the arm. And walked away.

When I got home, a notification popped up—he’d ordered me a box of burn cream through delivery service.

[Meggy, please stop being so sensitive and antagonizing Sean. You two are going to be seeing a lot of each other. I hope you’ll get along from now on.]

So that was it? He really thought he could buy my silence—and my cooperation—with a box of burn ointment, while he kept both women at arm’s reach?

I said nothing. Just applied the cream silently and went to bed. He never came home that night.

***

The next morning at work, everyone looked at me like I was a walking scandal. Whispers buzzed through the office like bees in a broken hive.

As I sat down, Jessy—one of the few coworkers I actually liked—leaned in and whispered,

“Meggy, people are saying… that you tried to seduce President Gudrick and his girlfriend caught you red-handed. It’s all over the company chat groups.”

She passed me her phone. Someone had recorded the restaurant scene last night. A new group chat had been created overnight just to gossip about me—how I supposedly tried to sleep my way to a promotion and failed spectacularly.

I barely had time to process it all when Simon walked in with Sean at his side.

“Everyone, let me introduce our new department manager—Sean.”

So that’s what he meant when he said we’d be seeing a lot of each other. He wasn’t joking. He literally parachuted her in—to be my boss. The office fell silent. All eyes turned to me.

Since the previous department manager had quit, I’d been handling most of the responsibilities. Everyone assumed I’d be the next in line for the position. But now? He added her to the company group chat—right in front of everyone. And immediately, one after another, they both sent messages.

Anyone with eyes could see it. Their profile pictures matched. A couple’s photo. Smiling. Lovey-dovey. The entire office spent the rest of the morning gossiping instead of working.

I didn’t care anymore. I was leaving anyway. I drafted my resignation and sent it to HR before lunch. With nothing left to lose, I went to the break room and made myself a cup of honey grapefruit tea—something warm, sweet and far away from bitter melon.

I’d barely taken two sips when Sean strutted in like she owned the place. She made herself a coffee and sat down next to me, crossing her legs like a queen claiming her throne.

Her voice was syrupy and smug. “Meggy,” she said, “I know you were Simon’s little secret for five years. But I’m his official girlfriend now. I’m back and it’s time for the mistress to know when to leave.”

She smiled faintly. “As long as you keep your mouth shut like you did before, I won’t make things harder for you.”

As she spoke, Sean played a voice message on her phone. It was that little boy from yesterday—his voice sweet and smug.

"Auntie Sean, wasn’t I awesome? Don’t forget the Transformers toy you promised me!"

And just like that, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. So that’s how it all went down. My instincts screamed for me to get out of there immediately. But before I could move, she snatched the cup of tea from my hands and poured it over her own head.

Then she smashed the ceramic cup at my feet. Shards of porcelain exploded around me, some even cutting my ankles.

The tea was cold, long since forgotten, but it still dripped down her face and soaked her blouse. Her hair hung in wet, messy strands and she looked exactly how she wanted to: pitiful, humiliated, the victim.

This woman wasn’t just ruthless—she was terrifying. She blocked my way, refusing to let me leave and started screaming. “Meggy! What are you doing?! Why would you hurt me like this?!”

Her shrill voice echoed through the office. And sure enough, the commotion drew coworkers from every corner. Not done with her performance, she took her coffee and splashed it across her chest. Then, just like before, she scratched at her neck until it turned red and raw.

I’d had enough. I slapped her. Hard. That was the moment Simon walked in—and saw me, standing tall, while Sean looked like a drowned, battered kitten. He didn’t hesitate. He slapped me.

“Meggy! If you don’t want this job anymore, then get the hell out!”

Still seething, he shoved me aside and swept Sean up in a bridal carry, like a damn hero saving the damsel in distress and carried her into his office.

I stumbled back, crashing into the edge of a desk. The pain shot up my spine and tears sprang to my eyes. The HR manager, who had been hesitant about approving my resignation just moments before, now signed it without a second thought.

Simon didn’t even glance at the form. While comforting Sean, he scrawled his signature and tossed the paper aside like trash.

The finance department, always quick to kiss up to whoever was in power, rushed to process my final paycheck, eager to please their new boss's favorite girl.

I still had a stack of client materials that needed to be handed off, so I organized everything and prepared to email it to Simon. But when I logged into my work account, I was already locked out.

My entire company email had been deleted. Only one person had the authority to do that. Simon. I tried texting him. Then calling him. Blocked. Phone. messanger. Everything.

I stood there for a moment, stunned, but only for a moment. Then I packed the last of my things, deleted every trace of myself from the company systems and left without looking back. Straight to the airport.