I sat in a clean private room, and its bright lights clearly illuminated every stain on my clothes.
A nearby waiter cast me a subtle, judging look. His eyes were filled with disdain. After six years of living as a homeless scavenger, I had long gotten used to such detestful gazes.
However, I found myself unusually restless in front of Joey.
Feeling ashamed, I picked up my cup and drank the water inside. When I set it down, a black handprint marked the polished surface.
The waiter rolled his eyes and said in a low voice, "How dirty! What a country bumpkin. That isn't drinking water!"
My face burned bright red, and my cheeks were hotter than ever.
Joey said unhappily, "We're the guests. Where's your professionalism? Apologize!"
Then, she drank the water in front of her.
My chest trembled violently. I suddenly remembered the time when Joey and I had just become a couple. I brought her to a sushi restaurant, but she wasn't familiar with using chopsticks, so she asked the waiter for a fork and a knife.
Back then, the waiter also muttered under his breath and called her a country bumpkin. Joey's face flushed in embarrassment, and she nearly cried as she sat there.
I remember scolding that unreasonable waiter and then asking him to bring two pairs of forks and knives over.
However, times had changed. Instead of me defending her, it was Joey defending me.
While I was lost in thought, Joey asked me what I wanted to eat.
I smiled bitterly and replied, "Anything works. I only need a plate of pasta."
Hearing my words, Joey had a complex expression on her face, but she didn't say anything.
I couldn't stop myself from gulping a little when food was served.
I hadn't had a meal that good in six years. Normally, I'd make do with a bottle of mineral water and a piece of bread or two to get through the day.
Seeing me eat so hungrily, Joey's eyes glistened with tears. She poured me a glass of water while saying in an icy tone, "Eat slowly. No one's going to take it from you."
I couldn't help lifting my eyes to look at her, and her gaze was cold and indifferent.
I gave a self-mocking laugh. "Do you… still hate me?"
Joey's eyes glistened with tears, but her voice was even colder. "Yes. I wish you were dead!"
In an instant, the delicious food in front of me turned tasteless, as if I was chewing wax.
Yet, I still forced myself to stuff it into my mouth. I was starving, and I knew this might be the last decent meal I'd ever have.
Just as the atmosphere was turning tense, Joey's phone rang. She answered the phone and said, "Marcus, what's the matter?"
"Tell Nina that you'd be coming back soon."
Only then did I remember that Joey already had someone to spend her life with. They even had a cute daughter.
My tears fell onto my plate, making the dish saltier.
I couldn't hear what the other end said, but Joey glanced at me, then went to the balcony to speak with Marcus.
I lifted my head, watching her from behind. There was a tenderness in her eyes as she talked to him.
I didn't want to blink. I wanted to memorize every detail of her.
I knew it was about time to leave. I didn't want to see Joey's cold, indifferent gaze.
I looked at the food on the table, hesitated, then decided to pack it up. After that, I silently looked at Joey and said, "Goodbye, Joey."
The moment I opened the door, I heard Joey's anxious voice. "Henry Smith, you left without a word six years ago. Are you going to do it again?"
She rushed toward me, grabbing my hand.
Only then did I see her tear-streaked face. Ignoring the dirt on my clothes, she held me tightly. "Henry, don't leave me, okay?"
I looked deeply into Joey's eyes.
I remembered how people had described her and Marcus as a perfect match, made for each other.
On the other hand, I was merely a homeless man…
Besides…
I gently pushed her away and let out a bitter laugh. "Joey, you and Marcus… You were the ones who caused my parents' deaths, who leaked the company's secrets. You really think I could be with an enemy?"
