It hit me that this was exactly how things had been in my previous life. I barely touched the food because it didn’t suit my taste. I had consoled myself then, thinking that Harry was catering to Rachel’s preferences as a guest and had ended up drinking too much, retreating to my room in a drunken haze.
I reminded myself that Harry’s intention was likely to make Rachel feel special. But as I watched the rain pour down and the storm rage on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were eerily similar to before.
Rachel: [Your friend poked you.]
Rachel: [Your friend poked you.]
Rachel: [Your friend poked you.]
Rachel: [Rosie, reply, if you don't reply, we will call the police @Rosie!]
The message from Rachel, sent just two minutes ago, shocked me. The thought of wasting police resources and the possibility of being exposed made me anxious.
I quickly typed a response.
[Oh, oh, I’m here. I watched drama all night and just woke up. Sorry for making you worry]
[I’m still at my mother’s house. It’s raining too hard now and she won’t let me go home. Don’t waste this table of food. Eat it. I’ll treat you to a big meal later to make up for it.]
Harry and Rachel’s responses came almost immediately.