At the time, I had seen what was in the bag and cursed the customer in my head.
But I never imagined that the person who placed the order would be Eric.
And just like that, I bumped into him after two years apart.
As the hot water enveloped me, Eric's face wouldn't leave my mind, and neither would the fact that he was now married.
After my shower, the doorbell rang.
A hotel staff member handed me a pack of cold medicine and a cup of warm milk.
I looked at him, puzzled.
He bowed his head slightly and said it was from the hotel manager.
I placed the milk on the table and sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, knees drawn to my chest.
The sky was heavy with clouds, the rain relentless.
I remembered the years I had spent with Eric.
I had always been frail and prone to illness, and every time I got caught in the rain, I'd come down with a fever.
During the rainy season, Eric always carried an umbrella for me.
When it rained, he would personally brew warm milk for me, making sure I drank it to warm up.
I hated the taste of milk, so he'd bring loads of sickly sweet candies to make up for it.
After we broke up, I couldn't drink warm milk anymore.
The kind from outside was always too bitter, too spicy.