Chapter 3
Just as Jacob was about to kiss me, the special ringtone he set for Silvia would go off, blaring like an alarm.
Jacob would always pick up.
His voice would shift in an instant—he'd go from being gentle with me to becoming helplessly worried, like he was shouldering the weight of the world.
"Silvia, what's wrong? Don't worry, just take it slow and tell me," Hank would say.
And I'd be put aside, left on the sidelines like an outsider.
I could only watch as he took care of her every need, showing her a kind of attention I could only dream of.
Hank waved his hand in front of my face, trying to snap me out of it.
"Not even all this sugar can cheer you up?" he teased. "Wow, you're really difficult to please, Miss Massey."
I snapped out of it.
Only then did I realize the half-eaten blueberry tart in my hand was now a mangled mess.
"It's nothing," I said, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about some things that are a bit hard to swallow."
Hank gave me a thoughtful look but didn't press.
He just handed me a napkin.
"Wipe your hands. When something's ruined, sometimes you just have to let it go," he said.
He always nailed it, even when he sounded so nonchalant.
Just then, my phone started ringing again.
This time, it wasn't a text—it was a call.
Jacob's name lit up on my screen.
I drew in a steadying breath and answered.
"Lucia," Jacob called out.
His voice came through sounding beyond tired, but there was this unmistakable sense of relief—like he was finally shaking off a huge burden.
"Silvia and I are flying back tomorrow," he told me.
"Okay," I replied quietly.
"It was a near miss this time," Jacob said with a sigh. "Silvia hasn't been herself lately, and I..."
On the other end, Silvia's voice broke in again, crisp and unmistakable.
She sounded husky from crying, her tone laced with that familiar, needy dependence.
"Jacob, my suitcase lock isn't working—what should I do?" she whimpered.
Jacob immediately moved the phone away from his ear, his voice growing distant but still patient.
"Don't worry. I'll take a look. Which suitcase is it?" he asked.
Then, as if he'd just remembered I was still on the line, he quickly added, "Lucia, let me handle this first. I'll call you back later."
And just like that, the line went dead.
All I could hear was the busy signal in my ear.
I stood there in the middle of the living room, phone still in hand.
Outside, the city lights blazed with brilliance, yet they felt colder than ever.
Hank quietly cleaned up at the kitchen sink, the faint clatter of dishes filling the silence.
A wave of exhaustion mixed with a numb kind of sadness crashed over me.
It rolled in slow, like the tide—drowning me so quietly I barely noticed.
I turned off my phone and sank into darkness, shutting my eyes and just letting it all wash away.
Jacob was coming back.
Dragging with him all the exhaustion and guilt, and those endless "emergencies" with Silvia.
And I'd still be standing here, caught in this cold wave that never seemed to let up.
Was I really just going to keep waiting for his next overdue call, wondering when he'd finally remember me?
I looked over at the busy figure in the kitchen and suddenly spoke.
Even I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded.
I said, "Mr. Bradford."
"Yeah?" Hank turned around.
He was still clutching the mixing bowl, wiping it down till it shone.
"Hey, are you free tomorrow?" I asked.
He raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to go on.
"Put in overtime," I said clearly. "There's something I need you to be there for. You might have to say a few words, face a couple of things. It won't take too long."
Hank's raised eyebrow relaxed.
"Of course. VIP clients always get bonus perks," he replied with a smirk.
Once Hank agreed, I shot Jacob a text. [Come by when you get back. Need to talk.]
*****
The next day, Jacob arrived right on schedule, Silvia at his side and a chilly air from Vetraland still lingering around him.
Silvia stayed behind Jacob, keeping close.
Her face was pale, but her eyes held a barely-there look of satisfaction—like she was quietly staking her claim.
As soon as they walked in, Jacob naturally led Silvia over to the couch and sat down with her.
Silvia started telling her story in that soft, delicate voice of hers, describing the terrifying ordeal in Vetraland.
She talked about how she'd nearly brushed shoulders with death, how scared and helpless she'd felt, and how Jacob had shown up just in time to save her.
Jacob played along, murmuring words of comfort.
There was genuine tenderness in his gaze.
I listened in, feeling like I was watching some melodrama play out for an audience.
When Silvia finally wrapped up her tale—with the last dramatic twist about Jacob stepping up to defend her from "thugs" on the plane, the room fell silent.
Soon, it became awkward.
Seeing this, Jacob spoke up to break the silence.
"Lucia, I'm sorry about that day..." he began.
"Jacob," I cut him off, my voice soft yet unmistakably clear. "Let's break up."
The air in the room froze.
The guilt on Jacob's face disappeared in a flash, replaced by stunned disbelief. "What did you just say?"
"I said, it's over between us," I repeated, my voice steady and emotionless. "The engagement is called off.
"From now on, you're free to go where you want and be with who you choose to be.
"And you don't owe me an apology."
His stunned disbelief quickly morphed into outrage, as though he was personally offended and couldn't believe what was happening.
Maybe in his script, I was supposed to cry, yell, or just give him the cold shoulder.
But it never crossed his mind that I'd be the one to set him aside with a cool, deliberate calm.