He looked at me, his face blank, and said in a cold tone, “Sir, do you know your reckless behavior almost made President Monroe miss her international meeting tonight?”
In that moment, it felt like I had fallen into the frozen lake all over again. My heart turned completely cold.
Three days after I was hospitalized, Isla finally showed up, as if she were doing me a favor. She sat cross-legged on the chair, calm and distant, her first words carrying blame.
“Why weren’t you wearing gloves that day? You know I’m allergic to men. Good intentions don’t matter if they cause trouble; that’s just foolish.”
The bedsheet in my hands wrinkled as I gripped it tightly. Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I asked softly, “Then why did you hug that interpreter? Weren’t you worried about your allergy?”
Her face froze for a moment. For the first time, her usually calm eyes flickered with hesitation.
“He was terrified then, and I forgot.”
“The young man has a weak stomach and can’t stand the cold. He was helping me with work, I couldn’t let him fall, too.”
A bitter laugh rose in my chest.