Chapter 56 Soup for the soul

Chapter 56 Soup for the soul
I decided to go home, and when I got there, I couldn't even cry in the shower since the water was so cold that I didn't stay under it for more than five minutes. I curled up on the living room couch under a cocoon of blankets. A cartoon was playing on TV as I applied tirelessly to various job vacancies. I didn't know what I would do now that my agreement with Jayden was over. That would be the money I would use to pay rent and several other bills.

"None of this would have happened if that idiot hadn't come to my job that day," I grumbled, annoyed at being unemployed. "It's all his fault! And he still has the audacity to tell me he always liked me. I feel like hitting him!" I said and sighed, trying to calm down.

This boy drives me so crazy with anger that I'm talking to myself. I check my messages and see if my phone has a network every moment. Part of me said he was bluffing. We've argued before, and when I thought he wouldn't come, he was there knocking on my door. I felt my stomach growl, and I realized I hadn't eaten anything. Since it was cold, I decided to make soup, and when I realized it, I was making enough for two people.

I grew up in an environment full of uncertainties, so I learned not to trust anyone. So why was I so sure he would come? I wondered, and only when the soup was ready, and there was no sign of a message from him, did I realize he wouldn't come. I sighed as I watched the steam from the plate dance around the room. I decide to send a message and even start typing, but end up leaving the phone on the table and leaning back on the couch to eat.

I taste the soup and realize it's delicious, but it reminds me of Jayden heating up food in my kitchen, and I try to push that thought away. I heard a knock on the door and smiled. I jumped up and looked in the mirror, trying to fix my hair before running to the door. He came! I could hardly believe it, and my heart was pounding like that of a child looking for his parents in the playground, but when I opened the door, my smile faded.

"It's good to see you too!" Lexie pushes me aside, entering without even being invited.

She's wrapped in several coats, but when she takes them off, I see she's in pajamas, and when she puts some bags full of stuff on my balcony, I imagine her visit won't be short.

"What are you doing here, Lexie?" I asked, annoyed as she took out various chocolates, cookies, and even two tubs of ice cream from one of the packages. She takes one of the tubs and puts it in my freezer as if she were at home, and I roll my eyes when I see her taking out some fruits and groceries from the other bags.

"Damn! I forgot about the pretzels," she grumbles, not answering my question, and starts rummaging through the drawers. "Where are the spoons?" She asks, and I sigh, closing the door since I was still standing there with it open.

"In the drawer to your right. Are you going to tell me what you're doing here, or do I have to believe you don't have spoons at home?" I inquired, and she sighed, opening the ice cream.

"I just needed to get out of the house, okay?" She explains, and I don't understand why she wanted to leave a likely mansion on the Upper East Side, but I just shrug.

"I guess I need to put a sign on my door. Rich people not welcome," I grumble, and she grimaces, tasting the ice cream and starting to shiver.

"You're crazy to come eat ice cream in my house that has no heater with this weather!" I asked indignantly, taking the ice cream from her hand.

"Well, I always knew I'd die for a man, at least it's Ben and Jerry's," she points to the brand of ice cream, and I sigh as she tries to take it back from my hand.

"Well, if you want to kill yourself, don't do it in my house. Imagine being on the news that you died in this neighborhood?" I teased, and she made a face.

"You're right! What are you eating?" She asks, and I walk to the pot, opening it.

"Bean soup. Want some? I made a lot," I explain, and the aroma intoxicates my senses.

"Well, it's not a feast, but in cold weather, a cigarette butt turns into a fireplace," she sighs and shrugs, serving herself.

Soon we were sitting on the couch, eating soup, huddled under the same blankets.

"By the way, sorry for earlier today. In my defense, I got a serious suspension, but I didn't rat you out," she defends herself, and I find it funny that she offended my soup but couldn't stop eating it.

"I know that, if you had ratted me out, I would have killed you," I joked, and she sighed.

"With the way I'm feeling, I think it would be a big favor," she sighs, and when a romance movie commercial appears on TV, she rolls her eyes. "Don't you hate men?" She asks, and I nod.

"I wouldn't say all, but definitely Jayden!" I affirmed, and she looked at me, confused.

"Oh no! What did he do this time?" She asks, visibly irritated by anticipation.

But how can I say that what he did that was so terrible was to declare his love for me while I knew she was in love with him?

"Nothing much. Just his existence already bothers me," I affirmed simply, and she squinted suspiciously.

"Spill it, Rachel, you two were fine until yesterday. You seemed like an old couple, with you telling him to make tea for the guests. What happened?" She insists and gets up to get another plate of soup.

"I don't want to talk about it. What about you? How are you after what happened with Patrick?" I asked, and she pursed her lips.

"I don't want to talk about it either. I'm mad at him!" She asserts, and I stare at her, confused.

"Mad at him? As far as I know, if anyone has a reason to be mad, it's him!" I affirmed, and she got irritated, putting her hands on her waist.

"Look who's talking? You're stepping on Jayden, and you're mad at him too, so you can't judge me, redhead!" She wagged her finger, and I stared at her, suspicious.

"How do you know that?" I ask, and she sighs, avoiding eye contact.

"I just guessed," she asserts, and I knew she was lying.

"Come on! Spill it!" I insisted, and she rolled her eyes, leaning on my balcony to eat.

"Maybe I talked to Jayden, and he suggested I come see how you are!" She confesses, rolling her eyes. "But if you tell him I told you this, I'll shave your head!" She threatens, and I'm dumbfounded, then she softens. "I was just kidding," she asserts, and I shake my head.

"It's not that, I just can't believe Jayden did that," I look at the bags on the balcony and ask. "Did he tell you to bring these things?"

She nods and sighs.

"Jayden really cares about you," she admits, staring at me. "I don't understand why you won't give him a chance," she sighs, and I stare at her in shock.

Should I surrender to this overwhelming and confusing feeling?