Chapter 2

When I reached the living room, Julian had already started eating.

Seraphina was also sitting at the dining table, head bowed, eating.

The food on the table was still steaming, but my spot was empty. My fork and knife weren't even set.

"When Mrs. Jenkins handed over, didn't she tell you not to sit at the table without permission when eating at an employer's house?"

I asked, suppressing my displeasure.

It wasn't that I was being unreasonable.

I had invited Mrs. Jenkins to join us before, but she always insisted on following protocol, saying it was a professional boundary not to cross.

Seraphina, however, was nonchalant.

"I've been eating like this the whole time. Mr. Caldwell allowed it."

Julian interjected.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Jocelyn, come sit down and eat."

I didn't move, standing there, watching them both.

In the silence, the sound of forks clinking against bowls was jarring.

Julian sensed my mood was off. He wheeled over, looking up at me.

"Jocelyn, don't be mad. Come sit and eat."

"Tell her to get up."

I stated.

"Jocelyn…" He tried to argue.

"Tell her to get up."

I left no room for compromise.

After a moment of stalemate, he finally lowered his head.

"Seraphina, could you please eat in the kitchen?"

Seraphina's face tightened. She picked up her bowl, the chair scraping a small mark on the floor.

She seemed accustomed to her way of interacting with Julian, and my return had become the disruption.

The emotion in her eyes flashed, then she suppressed it, preparing to stand up.

"Wait."

I called out to her, then turned to Julian.

"Didn't you tell her I don't eat cilantro?"

He finally reacted, looking down to see cilantro sprinkled on almost every dish.

"This…"

He was speechless.

"Ms. Caldwell, this isn't Mr. Caldwell's fault."

Seraphina quickly spoke up.

"I forgot when I was cooking and just put it in automatically."

"Then remake it."

My tone was flat.

"Jocelyn, let it go. Just eat it today, Seraphina will remember next time."

Julian tried to mediate.

I didn't say anything else. I walked to the table, picked up the closest dish, and dumped it directly into the trash can.

The sound of the liquid hitting the bottom was clear.

"Then no one eats."

Julian's brow furrowed.

"Jocelyn, you—"

The words died on his lips, as it was indeed Seraphina's oversight.

I didn't look at either of them. I grabbed my car keys and small bag from the entryway, changed my shoes, and left.

I didn't go back after dinner. Instead, I stayed at my small apartment near the office for a few days.

I'd bought this place specifically for project crunch times; the furniture was simple, and it was a five-minute walk from the office, perfect for quick breaks.

These past few days, Julian kept messaging me, asking when I'd finish work, if I'd eaten, and when I'd be home.

Knowing him, he usually would have driven and parked outside by now.

But with his leg injury, he couldn't leave the house freely, so he resorted to relentless messaging on his phone.

I didn't block him, nor did I reply much, occasionally just a "busy."

Around the sixth day, he sent me a longer message, asking me to come back for the weekend to look at wedding venues together.

He said he'd contacted several companies, clarified their availability, budgets, and venue effects, and hoped I'd pick one I liked.

His message was sincere. I didn't want to prolong the awkwardness, so I took the olive branch and went back.