“Didn’t you say you wanted braised pork last time? I’m at the supermarket fire exit—it’s too noisy inside.”
Rocco exhaled, relief softening his voice, and smiled like a carefree child.
“Valerie, your braised pork is the best. I’ll come home tonight.”
As the call ended, I watched him pat Avery, murmuring something about switching positions. My stomach churned as their laughter mingled with the others.
It was as if the years of love we had shared had turned into nothing more than a cruel joke. My heart felt like it had been shattered into countless pieces.
The others chuckled, moving aside to give them more space. I turned away before anyone noticed me, my legs carrying me out of sight. The lunchbox in my hand suddenly felt heavier than I could bear, and without a second thought, I hurled it into the nearest trash can.
Back home, the haunting image of Rocco pressing against Avery while video-calling me churned in my mind, sending waves of nausea surging through me.
Unable to contain the disgust, I hurled my phone into the toilet. My hands trembled as I scrubbed them under cold water, over and over, until the soap dispenser was empty. Yet, no amount of washing seemed to cleanse the taint.