To the Love of My Life

Even when she was washing and cutting the vegetables, the disappointment and sadness that had surfaced over the past two days due to Steve’s indifference seemed to be alleviated a great deal.

She didn’t even know why, but a hint of happiness spread in her heart.

Ruby’s dishes were very simple: four dishes and one soup, a balanced mix of meat and vegetables.

After cooking, instead of eating herself first, she placed the dishes on the dining table and patiently waited for Steve to return from work.

Time ticked away, and the food on the table cooled down. Ruby reheated it in the microwave, only to let it cool again. This cycle repeated four times before she finally heard movement outside the door.

Ruby quickly walked out of the dining room, and before reaching the door, she saw Steve crouching in the foyer area, changing his shoes.

Ruby stood still, waiting for less than a minute, before Steve looked up. In that instant, he seemed visibly stunned upon seeing her, but said nothing, and just closed the door behind him.

Steve threw his car keys on the foyer shelf and walked into the bathroom. When he came out after washing his hands, Ruby softly asked, “Have you eaten?”

“I ate outside,” Steve replied indifferently, then took a paper towel from the side, wiped his wet hands, and tossed it into the trash can.

“Oh,” Ruby replied quietly, at a loss for what to say next.

Seeing that she was still standing in the same place, Steve asked again, “Is there anything else?”

It was then that Ruby glanced at the ceremonial dress catalogue she had placed on the coffee table, pointing to it with a light tone, “That’s the catalogue for the ceremonial dresses. Take a look, which ones should we wear for our engagement?”

Steve cast a brief, indifferent glance at the festive, gold-embossed catalogue and calmly said, “You decide.”

After saying that, he glanced at Ruby and turned around to head up the stairs, entering the study room directly.

It wasn’t until some time after the study room door was closed that Ruby returned to the dining table, slowly taking in the dishes she had prepared. Her eyes stung, and it took her a while before she spooned herself a bowl of soup.

Her fingers trembled uncontrollably, barely able to grip the bowl. In the end, she filled only half a bowl before sitting down and burying her face in her soup.

It was yam pork ribs soup, a mild-tasting soup that caused an acidic taste to surge in Ruby’s chest. Eventually, unable to control herself, tears began to fall into her bowl like small drops.

Ruby Gregory haphazardly wiped her cheeks with a tissue and picked up the chopsticks to eat the dishes quickly.

Not knowing whether she was eating too fast or if one dish was too oily, Ruby suddenly felt nauseated. She put down her chopsticks, rushed to the bathroom, and began to vomit over the toilet bowl.

Everything she had eaten came back up, yet she still felt unwell. As Ruby continued to dry-heave into the toilet until nothing remained in her stomach, she realized that the most uncomfortable part of her was her heart.

Ruby kneeled before the toilet, lifted her hand blankly, and touched her heart, as if she faintly understood something.