Chapter 2
“Miss Millian, hello, I’m the nurse here. Your boyfriend has paid for three days of fees.” Said a woman.
Ivana looked at her hand, “My boyfriend was here?”
“Yes, the one who sent you over, looked like a firefighter. He paid for all the expenses,” the nurse said again.
Ivana said, “My boyfriend isn’t a firefighter.”
She asked the nurse to turn on her phone. for her, but there were no calls or texts at all. However, on her WhatsApp status there was a nine–photo collage of Ernest and Sydney eating together. The caption read: [You’re still the boy who loves desserts from back then.]
Ivana closed her eyes, the heartache unbearable. Five years of feelings were no match for the favorite woman.
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If you love that woman, Sydney Hamilton, so much, then Ernest, I won’t love you anymore, I don’t want you anymore.
For half a month, Ivana’s phone didn’t receive a single message from Ernest. What filled it were nine–photo collages posted by Sydney.
Some showed them eating, some showed them shopping. Some showed Sydney baking a cake while Ernest helped on the side and some had Sydney smearing cream all over Ernest’s face like a painted clown.
The latest post read: [My baby craving the taste from five years ago…]
Ernest’s call came through, “Ivana, make one of your signature brownies and deliver it to Stellar Hotel, Suite 888 tonight.”
“I can’t.” Ivana looked at her hands and, for the first time, refused Ernest’s request.
“Don’t forget who paid to open your dessert shop!” he threatened.
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Beep… before Ivana could reply, the call
was cut off.
The next moment, a message came in: [Ivana, thank you for taking care of Ernest these past years. Now that I’m back, Ernest should return to me.]
Ivana gripped her phone tightly. For a moment, she felt her heart clench so hard she couldn’t breathe. But gradually, she relaxed.
Lifting her hand under the sunset, she looked at it. Five years ago, it was this hand that Ernest held tightly, telling her the desserts she made were the best in the
world.
He said he’d protect her hands forever and let her make desserts only for him. The fingernails she lost to frostbite hadn’t even fully grown back. Her hands looked frightening.
The cloud storage sync kept flashing and her home camera sent notifications. Ivana
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stared at their increasing photos and listened to Sydney’s voice messages.
They talked about everything: the past, the future. In hours–long recordings, not a single word they mentioned Ivana.
It was only at the end that Sydney asked Ernest, “Ernest, during all these years I wasn’t around, you and Ivana were doing well, right? Seeing you happy, I feel at peace. In a few days, I’ll move to another city and we should stop contacting each other.”
Ernest sounded anxious, “No, no, it’s not like that. Ivana is great, but I was with her because… only her desserts taste like yours. Every time I eat her desserts, I think of you. Every time I see the dessert shop, I think how nice it’d be if it were you making them.”
The recording ended abruptly. Ivana touched her face, it was covered in cold tears.
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So it was just as she thought, she was only a substitute. She had believed that, in these five years, she had warmed Ernest’s heart.
But it turned out she was just a replacement. Now that the real girlfriend was back, whether the substitute’s hands could still make desserts no longer
mattered.
Wiping away her tears, Ivana opened her email and found the invitation from the French Le Cordon Bleu Academy when she won the dessert competition five years ago.
Back then, because she couldn’t bear to leave Ernest, who had collapsed after Sydney left, she gave up on that
opportunity everyone envied.
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