Chapter 3 For The Last Time

I didn't even hesitate "Nahh!! I don't want anything, Thanks anyway."

After all I was leaving, so what's the point right??

Suddenly he threw his towel on the bed and his eyes cold as he said to me "So what? You are upset because i brought you the wrong breakfast? Is that what this is all about?

I barely opened my mouth to speak that I wasn't angry , but he let out a scoff before I could speak.

"You know, I can't stand being women dramatic. You are being out of line now." he said with a hint of disgust and dismay.

With that, he stormed in his study, slamming the door behind him.

In our eight years of relationship, he was always the one given me countless silent treatments and every single time like a FOOL. I had always humbled myself to apologise and make it up.

But this time, I just cocked and eyebrow and turned off the bedside lamp.

He stayed in the study all night. For the first time, he didn't hear a single knock on the door.

The next morning, I made breakfast for the both of us as usual. I'd just finished eating my portion and was ready to leave for work, when he came out of the study.

He was on his phone when he barked at me "Take the day off. By 6 P.M. I need you to make me an identical fondant cake.

Ever since Rafael and I started dating, I'd been making him a birthday cake every single year, always manually.

When I glanced at the screen of his phone, I knew who was it for again.

I’d seen that little cartoon avatar on his phone–it was Tiffany's profile picture.

I didn’t say a thing, making the living room feel unnervingly quiet.

But Rafael was completely unaware of how unreasonable his request had been. He looked at me, waiting for a yes.

Eventually, I just nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “Send me the picture,” I said, standing up. “I’ll head out now to buy the ingredients.”

I thought back to that dinner eight years ago. If Rafael hadn’t been there… I wouldn’t have made it out of my first job unscathed.

I glanced at him one last time, thinking, ‘Once I finish this cake, I’ll finally be done with him.‘

I headed for the door, feeling the heaviness in my steps.

Before I could reach the doorway, Rafael’s voice, surprised, cut through the silence behind me.

“Alicia…” he started, his voice unsure.

I didn’t bother turning around. “Anything else?” I asked, my tone flat.

There was a pause before he spoke again. “…I’ll Venmo you for the ingredients.”

I continued on my tracks without a word.

When I stepped into the elevator, I pulled out my phone. Opening up our chat history, I stared at the numbers.

6454–that’s how many messages I sent him.

He’d replied to only 36.

It was draining to care, so I could only smirk.

Upstairs, in the living room, Rafael’s phone would buzz with the notification of the $100 transfer being rejected. I could imagine his hand clenched around the phone as he read the alert.

See you in the next chapter 💜 💜 💜

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