The Assistant's Prisoner: Love on Hold

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, is nowhere to be found until late at night.

Beside myself with worry, I, Seth Lloyd, frantically reach out to our mutual friends and even consider calling the police.

Suddenly, I come across a post about her from her assistant, Callum Cox.

"My manager came over to discuss some plans, but the door lock suddenly broke. Does this mean we're going to be stuck in the same room tonight? I can't help feeling a little excited."

When I like the post, Jean immediately calls me, furious. "Don't you have any idea how much I earn in a year? Just one day of my lost income would cover what you make in a whole week.

"All I did was skip that stupid engagement party, and you start acting all snide. I don't have time to deal with your stingy relatives."

My mom, Teresa Whitfield, stays silent, her eyes sweeping over the gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and several property transfer deeds in the private room.

With a forced smile, she asks, "Seth, have all these wedding gifts we've prepared embarrassed you?"

I sneer, caressing the keys to the luxury car I'm about to give Jean. "No, it's me who's being too generous to her."

When my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, got back, I, Seth Lloyd, was in the living room playing video games with my friends.

She ignored their enthusiastic greetings, gave me a fierce glare, and clomped up the stairs in her heels. Even with the game volume turned all the way up, I could still hear her door slam upstairs like thunder.

One of my friends scratched his head, hesitated, and said, "Maybe we should head out. Why don't you go calm her down?"

I scoffed. "Who the hell does she think she is?"

They stared at me in shock, then silently gave me a thumbs-up. "Way to go, Seth. Finally, you're standing up for yourself."

Jean used to really hate it whenever I played games with my friends. In her words, we were a bunch of stinky guys who couldn't hold our own and had no ambition.

Because of that, I hadn't even touched a game console for almost two years. Tonight, I had been gaming with my friends until well past midnight.

I cast a glance at the tightly shut bedroom door and headed straight to the guest room.

Later, just as I was drifting off into a slumber, Jean suddenly burst in, frantically rummaging through the closet. Normally, I'd have sprung up to help her, but now, all I wanted was to lie there in peace.

After a few minutes of clattering around, Jean fell silent. I heard her rapid breathing behind me and felt her burning stare fixed on me.

Then, she flicked on the light, and a blinding beam hit me. I instinctively shielded my eyes.

She yanked the covers off me and glared at me, furious. "Seth, do you know where you went wrong?"

I just found it funny how flustered and angry she looked.

I hadn't even questioned her about skipping the engagement party for no reason or sleeping with her assistant, Callum Cox. And yet here she was, confronting me instead.

I looked at her coldly. "So, where did I go wrong?"

Jean was shaking with anger. She grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at me. "I gave you a chance, and you're still refusing to admit you're wrong, huh? Don't come crawling to me tomorrow, begging for forgiveness."

She glared at me in silence, as if daring me to give in.

I didn't even glance at her. I buried my head under the covers and went back to sleep. Soon, I heard the heavy slam of the door as she stormed out.

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. How pathetic must I seem to her for her to think she can strut around and act so brazenly in front of me?

I slept through the night without a single dream, deeply and peacefully.

…

When I got up, I smelled a sweet aroma. Confused, I walked into the dining room.

I was surprised to see breakfast laid out on the table, as if by magic. There were a few delicate cakes on the plates, as well as steaming cups of coffee.

Jean peeked out from the kitchen in an apron, her expression cold. "Go ahead and eat."

We'd been together for over three years, and I'd never tasted her cooking. I picked up a piece of cake with my fork and took a bite.

Jean dragged a chair back, the screech piercing the air, and sat down without a word.

After a tense moment, she softened her voice. "Is it any good?"

With my head down, I idly scrolled through my phone. I was about to say it was not bad when I saw Callum's latest post.

"I just mentioned in passing that I wanted some blueberry cake last night, and she said she'd make it personally for me. I'm so excited."

Chewing the sweet-and-tart blueberries, my stomach churned violently. With yesterday's ice-cold beer still in my stomach, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I bolted to the bathroom and vomited violently.

Jean stormed after me, fuming. "Seth! I'm being nice to you, and this is how you repay me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"