Chapter 4
Just then, a girl hurried by my table, her footsteps stumbling as she covered her mouth with one hand. In her panic, she accidentally knocked over my glass of red wine, and the liquid splashed all over my clothes.
She bowed her head and apologized quickly, her hand never leaving her mouth, before running off to the restroom in a fluster.
The waiter rushed over, apologized profusely, and handed me a fresh towel to clean myself up.
He assured me the restaurant would pay to get my clothes cleaned and, to make up for it, even gave me an exclusive Black Gold VIP pass for the month.
I just shook my head. This outfit wasn't worth much anyway. And honestly, I couldn't afford your place for the rest of this month regardless.
So I took the towel and made my way to the restroom to clean up.
As soon as I stepped into the restroom, I immediately heard loud, guttural retching coming from one of the stalls.
The noises dragged on for what felt like ages, and then all of a sudden, everything fell silent.
I was really worried she might be so drained that she blacked out. What if she was choking on something? She could suffocate.
I rushed over and banged on her stall door. "Hey! Miss, are you okay in there? Can you hear me?" I called out, my voice full of concern.
I kept banging on the door, but there was still no response. A bunch of people had gathered behind me, craning their necks to see what was going on.
Finally, I braced myself and rammed the door open.
And there she was—the same girl who'd spilled my wine earlier. She was half-collapsed on the floor, legs sprawled out, her upper body flopped over the toilet.
I rushed over, checked if she was breathing, and relaxed. "Phew, still alive," I muttered, and then shook her gently to wake her up.
She blinked in a daze, and the moment she realized she was surrounded by me and a bunch of strangers, she shot wide awake.
"Whoa, why are there so many people here?" she muttered, looking bewildered.
I helped her to her feet and filled her in on what'd happened. She flashed an awkward grin. "Thanks. Sorry for all the fuss. I was just so wiped out that I totally knocked out for a bit."
Just then, the waiter came rushing over, looked between me and the girl, and then eyed the busted stall door. "Uh, ladies, which one of you is gonna pay for the repairs?" he asked.
Great, now I was screwed. I blew all my cash on clothes and dinner. How was I supposed to come up with repair money?
I managed a sheepish grin, just about to explain myself, but the girl cut in and handed the waiter her credit card. "Let me handle it. This one's on me. Go ahead and charge it," she said.
After leaving the restaurant, I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus.
Suddenly, a luxury car rolled up beside me.
The window slid down; it was the girl from earlier in the restaurant.
She gave me a sweet smile and called out in a clear, lively voice, "Hey, where you headed? Need a lift?"
I waved my hand, checking out her luxury ride. Just from seeing the car, I knew we were headed in totally different directions. "Nah, it's fine. Thanks anyway."
"Hey, I'm Olivia, Olivia Quinn. What's your name? I really haven't even thanked you for bailing me out just now," she said brightly.
I chuckled, "Oh, honestly, it was nothing. Hardly counts as saving you."
"Seriously, just let me drive you home. I'll feel super guilty if I can't thank you properly. Pretty please?" she begged.
She leaned against the window, gazing up at me with those big, sparkly eyes, looking absolutely pitiful.
That was when I noticed people around us were starting to stare, and it made me feel a bit self-conscious.
"Jeez, hurry up. We can't park here. If the cops come by, I'm totally getting a ticket," Olivia called out, her voice full of urgency.
She just wouldn't take no for an answer, and in the end, I caved and hopped into her car.
She had such a lively vibe that we were chatting and laughing nonstop the whole way.
Turned out Olivia's a lawyer who just finished a massive case. She hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in over a week, which was probably why she was so exhausted that she could literally pass out hugging a toilet.
Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "Well, do you think I'm fat?"
I turned in the passenger seat to really look at her. Her makeup was flawless, her face slim, with a long, graceful neck and sharp collarbones. The hands resting on the steering wheel were delicate.
"Not at all. Honestly, you're super skinny," I replied, keeping it real.
She looked genuinely happy when she heard that. "Really?"
But it faded as quickly as it came, replaced by a wry, humorless laugh. "It's funny. I used to be pretty heavy. Bet you can't tell, right? My ex-boyfriend broke up with me and said I was too fat.
"I was so desperate to get him back that I practically starved myself for three months. Dropped over sixty pounds, from 265 down to 194. I went back to him, begged for another chance... and we got back together."
She continued, "But I couldn't keep it up. The crazy dieting messed with my head, and I started binge-eating. Gained all the weight back, and that's when he ghosted me for good. I was so crushed that I ended up losing it all again.
"But now... my relationship with food is just broken. I can't eat a normal meal. If I have even a little too much, I just end up in the bathroom, throwing it all up."
Listening to her, I saw a reflection of my old self.
It was scary how we could hurt ourselves so deeply just to please someone who wasn't worth it.
I looked at Olivia, feeling a pang of sympathy, and blurted out, "You mean... just like today?"
"Olivia, did you really lose all that weight just 'cause you loved your ex that much?" I asked softly, my tone both concerned and curious.
She was silent for a moment, then let out a light, almost teasing laugh. "Well, I guess I did. Am I just a total fool for love?"
I shook my head seriously. "Nope."
Resting my hand on her shoulder, I said gently, "And Olivia, seriously, this isn't even funny. You need to really ask yourself, what do you want for yourself?"