Chapter 4

By 2:00 AM, the bitterness in my mouth was so unbearable I couldn't sleep.

Chloe had started a late-night stream. This time, she was drinking concentrated wormwood tea.

The chat was filled with crying emojis.

Meanwhile, I lay in bed, feeling as if a gallon of black ink had been poured down my throat, burning its way from my esophagus to my vocal cords.

My phone lit up.

It was a text from Ethan.

"I’ll take you out for sushi tomorrow to make it up to you. Just don't go to Mexico, okay?"

I didn't reply.

A second text popped up immediately.

"Chloe said she didn't mean to make you feel bad. She’s been crying all night. Can't you just be the bigger person?"

I flipped my phone face down under my pillow.

The next morning, as I dragged my suitcase toward the front door, Ethan blocked the hallway.

He was in his sweatpants, his hair messy, looking like he hadn't slept at all.

"Are you really doing this?"

"Yes."

"Amelia, I'm telling you, you can't handle spicy food. Last time you had jalapeños on your pizza, your lips were swollen for two days. Have you forgotten?"

"That was then."

I tried to step around him to grab my shoes.

He grabbed the handle of my suitcase.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn? Do you ever think about my feelings?"

"Your feelings?"

I looked up at him, finding the words absolutely pathetic.

"Ethan, did you ever think about mine? When I told you my mouth tasted like poison, you said I was faking. When I told you my stomach was killing me, you told me to stop being dramatic. Now I’m leaving, and you want to talk about *your* feelings?"

He choked on his words, his grip on my suitcase loosening slightly before tightening again.

"I only said those things because I care about you! Why can't you see that?"

The doorbell rang.

Ethan opened it. Chloe stood outside, her eyes red and puffy as if she’d been crying for hours.

"Ethan... is Amelia leaving because of me? It's all my fault. I shouldn't have brought that tea... I'm so sorry..."

She looked ready to burst into tears again.

Ethan immediately pulled her into the apartment, patting her back gently.

"It’s not your fault, Chloe. She’s just being stubborn."

Over Ethan’s shoulder, Chloe looked at me. Her eyes were watery and pathetic, but deep inside them, I saw that familiar, icy smirk.

It was the exact same look she gave me in my past life.

When I was on my knees begging her to stop streaming, she had looked down at me with that exact same smug smile.

Then, she had turned to Ethan and wept beautifully.

"Amelia, please don't go. I won't come around anymore, I promise... I shouldn't have intruded..."

Ethan turned to me, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Amelia, are you happy now? Chloe has no family. I’m the only person she can rely on. Why are you so heartless?"

I yanked my suitcase handle out of his grip.

"Ethan, remember every single word you said today."

"When you finally taste the bitterness Chloe has in store for you, don't come crying to me."

His face flushed red with anger.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. I'm warning you."

I rolled my suitcase out the door. Just as the elevator doors were closing, I heard Chloe's voice drift from the apartment.

"Ethan... do you think Amelia is having a mental breakdown? Maybe we should get her some help..."

Ethan’s reply was muffled.

"She's probably just losing her mind."

As the elevator descended, I looked down at my phone.

Chloe’s Instagram follower count had just hit 50k.

Her stream title was now: *"Kicked out by my friend’s wife, trying not to cry too loud."*

The video showed her sitting on a park bench, holding a cup of herbal tea, wiping away tears as she drank.

The chat went wild.

*"I feel so bad for Chloe. That wife is a literal monster."*

*"Some people get to live in luxury and still hate to see others work hard."*

*"We love you, Chloe! Don't let her get to you!"*

Suddenly, another wave of intense, sharp bitterness surged in my mouth.

It was stronger than yesterday, as if someone had dumped pure bile powder onto my tongue.

My stomach contracted violently, and I had to lean against my suitcase for support.

Not enough.

This pain wasn't enough.

I needed something far more brutal to send right back to her.

My phone rang. It was the coordinator for my contract.

"Amelia, we’ve confirmed your flight for 3:00 PM today. Once you land, a driver will take you to the base. The Carolina Reapers were just harvested from the farm. They are incredibly fresh."

"Perfect."

I stood up straight, wiping a trace of bitter spit from the corner of my mouth.

"Please prepare extra. I don't want to run out."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"...Amelia, normal people can't even touch these things. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

I hung up and ordered an Uber straight to the airport.

Ten minutes before boarding, Ethan’s name flashed on my screen.

"Amelia, if you get on that plane, we are getting a divorce."

I looked at the boarding countdown, put the phone to my ear, and said:

"Draft the divorce papers. I'll sign them. But before you do, you might want to ask Chloe one thing—who exactly is her taste-swap system bound to?"

The line went quiet for a long moment.

Then, a scoff.

"You really have lost your mind. Taste swap? System? Amelia, go get your brain checked."

The boarding announcement chimed.

I stood up and walked toward the gate.

"Just wait and see."

0