I called her, but she didn't pick up. I texted her, but she didn't reply.
Lara, once again, stood me up.
"Sir, we will be closing at 10 p.m. Would you like to order?"
I nodded.
Sitting alone, listening to the heavy rain outside the window, and eating fresh grilled salmon.
I actually thought that the feeling of being alone was surprisingly good.
When paying the bill, I saw Austin's Instagram.
"Being sick is so uncomfortable, but luckily I have you!"
The picture attached was a pair of hands clasped beside a hospital bed.
I recognized at a glance that one of them was Lara's hand.
Her hands were very fair, and she applied a liquid hand mask every night. She found it troublesome, so I helped her apply it and then washed it off carefully.
The moment I saw the picture, I felt nothing at all.
I wasn't angry, and I didn't feel like questioning her.
Instead, I felt a sense of accomplishment that I had always expected would be like this.
See? I was right again.
Every time Lara stood me up, it was because of Austin.
But when she stood him up, it was never because of me.
To be more precise, she had never stood him up!
I was glad that this time I was not sad or aggrieved at all.