The air smelled of native rice, spicy and rich, the kind of aroma that clung to the walls and filled the silence between three people pretending not to notice one another.
I had been in the kitchen for hours, stirring, seasoning, tasting, adjusting. I didn't want the food to taste too good. I didn't want compliments. I didn't want to be noticed. But apparently, that was too much to ask.
"Oh dear, Sidney!" Jake exclaimed, his mouth half-full. "You do not cease to amaze me with your cooking."
I stood by the kitchen entrance, arms folded, watching him chew with too much enthusiasm. Across the table, Carl was devouring the rice like it was his last meal. Not a single word came from his mouth, but the way he kept scooping spoon after spoon said it all.
I didn't say anything. I didn't smile. I didn't sit. I just turned and walked back to the kitchen like it was the only place I still belonged.
I was done. Done being the girl caught between compliments and confusion. The girl who didn't know if her heart was breaking or just boiling.
"Sidney," Jake called out behind me. I paused. "I'm leaving in an hour. Just wanted to say thank you. For the food. For everything."
I nodded without turning. "Safe travels."
He came into the kitchen a moment later. I felt his presence behind me, stiff and unsure.
"I'll be gone two weeks. I'll check on you through Skype, WhatsApp, whatever works."
"Okay."
He hesitated, then stepped closer. "Take care of yourself, okay? I hope Carl makes you feel at home."
I finally turned to face him. He looked different now. Like a man who'd said everything too late.
"I'll try," I said.
He smiled, then extended his hand. When I didn't take it immediately, he moved in for a hug. It was awkward—his arms hesitated, unsure of where to land—but I let him hug me anyway. My arms stayed limp by my side.
I watched from the window as he rolled his luggage to the car, Carl stepping out to help him. They saluted, hugged, shared a quick goodbye. Jake gave me one last look before getting into the car. His eyes said everything. He was still hopeful.
But I was too lost to give hope back.
That night, I shut the door to my room and locked it. I didn't want to see Carl. I didn't want to hear his voice or feel the weight of his presence walking past my door. The walls in this house were smart enough to adjust to my mood—lights dimmed when I didn't want them, music stayed silent, even the air conditioning whispered.
But my thoughts weren't quiet.
I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, refusing to let tears fall. I wasn't sure what I was angry about. The kiss? The deception? Or the way Carl hadn't said anything when I needed him to? He let Jake take the floor. He let me hang in confusion.
Was I just another girl to be used and discarded?
I got up and walked to the window. The night outside was Calm, the Ontario breeze brushing gently through the trees. The sky was clear—too clear for the chaos brewing in my heart.
Then came the knock.
Soft. Deliberate.
"It's me, Carl," he said.
I said nothing.
"I know you're awake. I can almost hear your thoughts from here."
Still, silence.
"I know I owe you an apology, Sidney. I know I messed up. Please… I think we need to talk this out."
My breath hitched. My fingers tightened against the curtain.
"I'll be at the dining table. If you decide to come out."
And then his footsteps faded.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.
"Don't go," my pride whispered.
"Go," my heart begged.
For ten minutes, I sat there debating. What would Prisca say if she were here?
"Talk to him, find out where his head is. You're not a mind reader, girl."
I exhaled and reached for my robe. Quietly, I unlocked the door and stepped into the hall.
He was there, sitting at the end of the dining table, staring at the empty seat across from him. The lights were dimmed low, the atmosphere too intimate for my liking.
"You came," he said, standing slowly.
"I'm not here for long."
"Understood."
I sat, folding my arms tightly. "Talk."
He sighed, rubbing his palm across the table.
"I never meant to confuse you, Sidney. When I first came here, yes—it was because of Jake. But… things changed."
"You kissed me, Carl. You don't kiss someone you feel nothing for."
"I don't," he said quickly. "That kiss wasn't a joke. It wasn't planned either. It just… happened."
"And then what? You disappear? Let Jake confess like you were never involved? Let me think I imagined it all?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't know what to do. Jake's my brother in arms. He's like family. I didn't want to hurt him."
"But you didn't think about me? What I would feel?"
"I did," he said, leaning in. "I thought about you constantly. Every second."
My breath caught in my throat.
"I was drawn to you the moment I saw you," he said, his voice low. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to talk to you. Observe you. Tell Jake what you like. Help him win you over."
"But you got in too deep," I whispered.
He nodded. "Yes."
I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms. "So now what?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't want to lose the chance to know you. Not because of guilt or timing or some messed-up plan."
"And Jake?"
"I'll talk to him again. Tell him everything. It's not fair to him either."
I looked at him long and hard. "You still want me to work here?"
"I want you here, however you want to be here. As a worker. As a friend. Or more."
I stood, unsure if I was angry or touched.
"You've put me in a really difficult place, Carl."
"I know."
"I don't do love triangles."
"I'll step back if I need to. I just needed to tell you the truth."
"I'll think about it."
He nodded, slowly standing.
I was halfway to the hallway when I turned back. "Carl?"
"Yes?"
"Do you regret kissing me?"
He didn't even blink. "No. Not for a second."
I nodded and walked away before he could see the tears I hadn't meant to cry.