CHAPTER 10: MID-NIGHT SNACK
“Y-You’re here,” I whispered. I was stunned.
Jake didn’t answer. He slowly walked toward me but still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“J-Jake?” I said again with my unsteady voice.
Still silent, he stopped in front of me and handed me a small red box. The same one I saw earlier between the books.
Then his gaze finally lifted. Our eyes met, and he gave me a soft, unsure smile. I looked down at the box in my hand. Confused.
“Jake…” I breathed, still unsure of what to say or even how to respond.
“I hope you wear it,” he said gently, pressing the box into my palm then released a bitter smile.
“But… you already gave me a necklace.”
“This one’s different,” he said. “A Darry Ring is… not just a jewelry.”
My heart dropped.
Darry Ring?
“Jake—I… no. I can’t accept this.” I said, trying to give it back to him but he refused.
Maybe it's just that I can afford something like this but has no ability to do that. Precious gifts aren't for me to deserve.
“I can only give it to one person,” he said. His voice was calm and serious. “And if I have to choose one, it’s you.”
Then he leaned in, kissed my forehead, and left another word before leaving.
"Have a goodnight, young miss," he said and walked away.
I didn’t call after him. I couldn’t.
I stood there, staring at the little red box in my hand like it weighed more than it should. It's not supposed to be in my hand but in his fiancee's.
Eventually, I walked back to my room quietly and locked the door behind me.
I sat at the edge of my bed, still holding it. Still not opening it. I just stared at it.
Because how could I deserve something like this?
He had a fiancée. And as far as I knew… she was the one refusing him and not the other way around. So if she ever changed her mind… would he go back?
Would this—us—disappear?
I slowly laid back on the bed while the box was still in my hand.
“Maybe… it’s not so bad to keep going,” I whispered to myself. “If it’s with him.”
But saying it out loud felt like I’d betrayed someone. Not just his fiancée but also myself. My values. My family.
If my parents found out, they’d say I was a liar. That I pretended to be better than this. That I said I didn’t want love, only to end up clinging to a man who’s already promised to someone else.
How cruel.
How foolish.
How selfish.
And yet… here I was.
Then a soft breeze slipped through the window, just enough to push the curtains open and reveals the moon and stars on the sky. The air was...... cold but comforting.
"The moon is pretty... and so are the stars... even in darkness," I whispered, eyes fixed on the sky.
I got up from the bed and slowly walked to the window, staring at the night as if it could hear all my unsaid thoughts to the world.
"I want to be like them too," I said quietly, wrapping my arms around myself. The cold air kissed my skin, and I stood there for a moment, letting it sink in.
Then I remembered that he had prepared food for me.
"Well, I'm hungry. Too bad to make my baby food wait," I mumbled to myself in a silly tone, rolling my eyes a little at how soft I sounded.
I headed downstairs, my feet steps quietly against the stairs, but stopped when I saw Jake lying on the sofa near the door.
That man. He's so stubborn. Deep down, he's just like a kid.
I ignored him and went straight to the kitchen, hoping to find whatever it was he cooked for me. My stomach was already grumbling in hunger.
Then he suddenly spoke from behind.
“I think I thought right… that a ghost in this house might look for food at midnight.”
I turned around, startled, only to see him leaning against the kitchen arch while his arms were crosse and there's a smug smile on his face.
“I thought you were sleeping?” I asked, both confused and caught off guard.
“My instincts told me that my young miss needed assistance finding her midnight snack,” he said like it was the most noble thing in the world.
I rolled my eyes and turned back around, pretending he wasn’t even there.
He’s really full of himself.
“I can do it by myself,” I muttered, rummaging through the shelves.
“Are you sure?” he asked again, like he want to convince me.
“I suggest you mind your own business sometimes so I can have at least some peace of mind,” I shot back, making my tone clearly annoyed.
“Hey, what’s with the attitude? Sometimes you’re sweet, sometimes you’re stubborn like a kid, and now you’re mad again. Really, what’s wrong with women?” he groaned, like we were the problem for reacting to their existence.
“Men. That’s what’s wrong with our lives,” I replied without even looking at him and continued searching.
He walked over and watched me as I struggled to find whatever it was he cooked.
“You sure we’re the problem? Or maybe some women like you are just in denial that you need men... sometimes,” he said with that usual smugness.
God! This man!
“Not even once,” I said flatly but still not looking at him.
“Look, if you just say, ‘Jake, can you help me, please?’ then I’ll help. I’m sure the worms in your tummy are already crying for help.”
“Excuse me? That’s just disgusting,” I said then my brows furrow.
“How can you find it when I—”
He stopped mid-sentence when he saw me pull out a plate with food from behind the glasswares on the bottom shelf.
“There,” I said with a raised brow and just a hint of sarcasm.
I was about to turn around when he suddenly bumped the plate I was holding, sending it straight to the floor.
“That’s my food!!!” I shouted, staring at the mess.
“Then we’ll cook,” he said while reaching out a hand to guide me to sit.
“I can sit,” I muttered and plopped down on my own.
He grabbed the apron and started cooking.
Fine. I needed him… sometimes. Especially now. Because, well, I don’t even know how to boil an egg.
This guy is really something else.
“You can also admit if I’m distracting you,” he teased while chopping something.
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Pfft.”
He just smiled. He's clearly proud of himself.
“Do you want it spicy?” he asked.
“Guess,” I said, not bothering to help.
“If I guess wrong, can you cook for yourself?” he said, raising a brow.
“Many spice,” I replied with a smirk, which made him chuckle softly.
While he was focused on the pan, I stared. His forehead was shining with sweat from the heat of the stove. My eyes followed it down to his chest… and then to his arms. It was muscled and perfectly built.
Then I realized that he was already standing in front of me.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked in a husky voice.