Chapter 2

Half a month later, I twisted my ankle on the office stairs.

The X-ray came back clean. No fracture.

The doctor said it was a sprained ligament and told me to stay off it as much as I could for the first three days.

I sat in the ER hallway and called Jacob.

"What's wrong?"

"I twisted my ankle."

His voice tightened at once. "Is it bad? Did you get it X-rayed? Is it swollen?"

I looked down at the ankle, puffed up and high.

"Pretty swollen. Doctor says nothing's broken."

He let out an audible breath.

"Good. Send me your location."

I sent it.

Ten minutes later, he called again.

"Effie, something's come up on my end."

Something in me sank.

"What is it?"

"Rosalie's car broke down on the airport freeway."

I closed my eyes for a moment.

"What about her insurance company?"

"Already called. But the tow truck's going to take a while."

"And you?"

"She's alone out there, big rigs on all sides. She's too scared to get out of the car."

I glanced toward the hospital entrance.

Outside, it was pouring.

As if afraid I'd read too much into it, Jacob added quickly, "I'll book you a car."

An order popped up on my phone a moment later.

A private car. A hundred and eighty-six.

Before I could react, he was already saying, "Don't worry about the price this time. Your foot matters."

That line, of all things, made my nose sting for a second.

"You always said cars aren't worth it when it rains."

"You're hurt. It's different."

I made a soft sound of agreement.

He asked again, "Does it hurt?"

"A little."

"Ice it when you get home. I ordered you some congee and painkillers. It should get there before you do."

He was thorough about it.

I could even hear his engine starting on the other end.

Right before he hung up, he coaxed me one more time. "Be good, don't wander around. I'll come back as soon as I drop her off."

When I got home, sure enough, the takeout was already sitting in the entryway.

The note was in Jacob's writing: 【Take the medicine after you eat.】

I sat down on the rug, looking at those few words, and suddenly thought maybe I really shouldn't hold it against him.

I had just torn open the ice pack when a new notification popped up from my social media feed.

Rosalie had posted a video.

In the downpour, Jacob was half-kneeling beside her car, his pant legs already soaked through.

He'd borrowed a set of tools from somewhere and was bent over, checking the tire.

Under her umbrella, Rosalie asked, "The tow truck's almost here. Why are you bothering with all this?"

Jacob didn't look up.

"Didn't you say the car's been making a weird noise lately? Let's take a look while we're at it."

"You have class tomorrow."

"It's fine."

"And your wife?"

The video paused there for a second.

Then I heard Jacob's voice.

Calm. Easy.

"She's already home."

Rosalie laughed.

"You just take advantage of how little trouble she gives you."

Jacob laughed too.

"She's always been more sensible than you."

I gripped the ice pack.

My fingers went stiff, one by one.

Eleven at night.

Jacob came home.

The moment he was through the door, he crouched down in front of me to look at my foot.

"How is it swollen again?"

He reached out and touched it.

I flinched back.

He looked up. "Hurts?"

"Yeah."

His brows knotted, and he went straight for the medicine.

Watching his back, I suddenly asked, "Why are your clothes all wet?"

"The rain was heavy on the freeway."

"Are you cold?"

"I'm okay."

He set the medicine down by my hand.

"I'll take a shower, then re-ice it for you in a bit."

I looked at him for a few seconds.

"Jacob."

"Hm?"

"I already made it home."

He froze.

I didn't say anything more.

But he seemed to understand all at once, the look on his face slowly going stiff.

"Effie, I didn't mean it like that."

I nodded.

"I know."

But this time.

I didn't want to finish the rest of his sentence for him anymore.