Chapter 8: Breakfast Sandwiches and Old Wounds

I woke up drenched in sweat.

Opening the door, I saw Derek standing there, facing Natalie, blushing, heart pounding like a deer in headlights.

So damn innocent!

"Na-Natalie, good morning! Have you eaten breakfast? I bought some, want to try?"

He held up his hand like he was offering a treasure.

More than just some—it was a lot!

Natalie blocked the door, not letting him in.

Her voice was gentle but distant.

"No, thank you. May I ask, why did you come to my house?"

Derek froze, gaze wandering, finally landing on me.

"I—I’m looking for Lillian!"

Derek looked a bit dejected, sulking all the way, not saying a word.

Even when I took breakfast from him, he didn’t react.

After eating a bowl of mac and cheese and drinking a cup of orange juice, he handed me a breakfast sandwich.

"Riley’s breakfast sandwich—you always said you wanted it. Since they’re still open, hurry up and eat!"

I stopped in my tracks.

Riley’s breakfast sandwich—fluffy eggs, crispy bacon, gooey cheese, my favorite breakfast in high school, paired with fresh orange juice—perfection. Warm, buttery, and wrapped in greasy deli paper—the taste hit me with a wave of nostalgia for high school mornings.

I really had said I missed this breakfast so many times!

But Derek never responded.

Turns out he heard—he just didn’t want to bother with me!

Thinking of this, I kicked Derek in the leg!

He gasped in pain.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, Lillian, have you lost it? You don’t want to talk to me? Fine, I don’t want to talk to you either! Goodbye! Never again!"

He yelled furiously at my back.

Two hours later, at a dessert shop, we locked eyes again.

"What are you doing here?"

"Welcome!"

His face was confused; mine wore a fake smile.

The shop was called ‘Sweet Spot,’ opened by Derek’s cousin.

Right then, he was grilling his cousin.

"You hired her? Do you know the law? She’s underage!"

His cousin grinned.

"If you don’t say, I don’t say, who’ll know she’s underage?"

Derek glared, then turned to me.

"Why did you come here to work? Did you pick my cousin because she’s easy to fool? Why do you need a job? Need money?"

I curled my lips, enunciating: "None of your business!"

All afternoon, I greeted customers, while Derek sat in the corner like an angry pufferfish.

After a while, I looked over and saw him leaning back, mouth open, asleep!

His cousin nudged me.

"Does my little brother like you? Are you two together?"

Expressionless, I wiped the tables.

"He likes my sister."

"Huh?"

"My identical twin sister!"

"Whoa, stand-in romance? He’s that much of a jerk?"

Heh!

"Wait here, I’ll go beat him up!"

Good news one: Derek got beat up by his cousin and chased out of the shop!

Good news two: I passed my trial and got the part-time job—ten bucks an hour, double on holidays, paid monthly!

Leaving the shop, Derek was still squatting in the corner.

When he saw me, he stood up.

"Spit it out if you’ve got something to say! Can’t you talk properly? If not, I’m leaving!"

"What did you say to my cousin? Why did she hit me!"

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to deal with him.

But Derek grabbed me.

"Lillian, have you always lived on the balcony? Why? Your house has three bedrooms—why do you live on the balcony? Later, you bought such a big house, custom-ordered a king-size bed—was it because of this? But why did you always go sleep in the study when I wasn’t home? And…"

"And what? Are you done yet?"

I shook him off impatiently.

"We have nothing to do with each other anymore! Not now, not ever! Stay out of my business!"

What does it have to do with him?

Yeah, when you lack something, you want it.

I bought such a big house, custom-ordered a king-size bed, because I never had it.

But such a big house, such a big bed, only made me afraid.

So empty, so unsettling.

Only curled up in the messy study, lying on the narrow sofa bed, did I feel safe.

How ironic, how pathetic.

I thought growing up, I could make up for what I missed as a child.

But turns out, that was the poverty of my whole life.