Chapter 3
Summer rolled around before I knew it.
Making lunch for Emily had been my daily routine for over three months now.
The whole routine was locked in, up at six, wash up, head to the kitchen. Chop veggies, heat the pan, toss everything together. Two lunches packed: my stainless steel thermos, her light green lunchbox.
By 8:30, I'd be at the office, dropping her lunchbox on her desk.
She'd show up at 8:40, spot the lunchbox, and give me a quick smile.
Then we'd both get back to work, only to meet up again at noon for lunch.
We had this unspoken understanding, but that was as far as it went.
Outside of work, we barely interacted. No texting, no after-work dinners, no weekend hangouts.
She never tried to break that boundary either.
It wasn't until a Friday in mid-June.
At four in the afternoon, our team lead dropped a message in the group chat: "Project launch celebration tonight at 7 PM. The usual spot. Everyone has to be there."
The "usual spot" was a restaurant next to the office, 25 bucks a person. That was our go-to spot whenever a project finished.
Everyone showed up for dinner.
Emily took the seat to my right.
Ben grabbed the one on my left, grinning like he was ready for some drama.
I kicked him under the table.
Halfway through dinner, the team lead stood up with his glass. "Alright, Emily's been with us for three months now, but she still hasn't had a proper toast with everyone."
Emily got up, looking a little nervous as she held her glass.
"I-I'm not really a drinker," she mumbled.
"No worries, coffee works just fine," the team lead waved it off.
She breathed a sigh of relief and went around the table, clinking her coffee cup with everyone.
When it was my turn, she paused for an extra second.
"Thanks, Alex," she whispered.
Our cups touched, making a soft clink.
The guys at the table started teasing. "Ooh, a special thank you just for him?"
"Alex cooks for her every day, of course she has to thank him personally."
"So, when are you two gonna treat us to wedding sweets?"
My face was burning up.
"It's just an extra lunch, nothing special," I said.
"Yeah, nothing special, except you've been doing it for three months straight," Ben shot back.
I stomped on his foot again, this time with real force.
Emily stayed quiet, head down, her ears turning red.
The dinner broke up around nine.
Everyone headed their separate ways.
As I got to the subway entrance, I heard someone hurrying up behind me.
"Alex," Emily called out.
I turned around.
She stood a couple steps away, the streetlight bathed her in soft light. The summer breeze lifted a strand of her hair.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Um..." She fidgeted with her backpack strap, fingers tightening and loosening. "I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead," I said.
"Why do you bring me lunch every day?" she asked.
I was caught off guard for a second.
Honestly, I'd been expecting her to ask this someday, but when she finally did, my mind just went blank.
"Isn't it because you can't really afford lunch?" I said.
Silence.
Emily stared at me.
Her big eyes looked even bigger under the streetlight.
"Can't afford it?" she repeated, her tone sounding kind of weird.
"Yeah," I nodded, like it was obvious. "You just graduated, first month no paycheck, and even after that, it's not much.
"You never buy milk shake, never join the cake orders, always wearing the same few outfits, and your phone's screen is cracked and you never bother to fix it. I figured making an extra lunch was no big deal, so I just..."
"Wait," she cut me off.
"You think I'm broke?" she asked.
Her tone shifted, not angry, just totally incredulous.
"Not broke, just a little strapped for cash?" I tried to make it sound better.
Emily clamped her lips shut.
She went silent for about five seconds.
Then she just cracked up.
Not the shy kind, but the full-on, doubled-over, shoulders shaking, one hand over her mouth, the other on her knee.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"N-nothing," she said, straightening up, her eyes were a bit watery. "Alex, you're such a good guy."
"Uh, thanks?" I said.
"I'm heading out," she said, turning to run toward the bus stop in the opposite direction. After a couple steps, she turned back. "Tomorrow's Saturday, so don't bother making my lunch, okay?"
"I don't even work on Saturdays, how would I make it?" I replied.
"Oh, right," she said, smacking her forehead. "See you Monday."
Then she ran off.
I stood there at the subway entrance, feeling totally baffled.
Why was she laughing?
Did I say something wrong?
The subway pulled up. I stepped inside and grabbed the overhead bar.
My reflection stared back at me from the window, plain, tired, and honestly, a bit confused.
Whatever.
Forgot it.