But Jerome didn't even glance at me. He was too busy comforting Jessica with infinite patience, "Shh, don't cry, don't cry. Why are you so upset? It's okay, I won't blame you."
As I was processing Jerome's words, he suddenly grabbed the ceramic bowl and downed the meat porridge in one gulp, even licking the spoon clean, her lipstick stain and all.
My nose started to sting. Jerome was infamous for his obsession with cleanliness. He would never eat food that I had touched. At mealtimes, we always used separate plates and dishes.
Once, I was so hungry that I accidentally took food from his plate. I would never forget the look of disgust on his face. The result? He didn't eat a single bite from that plate and he never used it again.
I had never imagined there would come a day when someone could make Jerome act this way. Once, I thought I was Jerome's one and only.
But with Jessica's arrival, everything changed. She was perfect. He loved everything about her. No matter how, she was better than me.
When I was discharged from the hospital, it was raining outside. A Rolls-Royce, painted in a flamboyant pink princess style, instantly attracted everyone's attention.
Everyone was talking about how much love it must take to paint such an expensive car this way.
But I recognized at once, it was Jerome's car. On the back was written: [The Exclusive Car for the CEO's Gorgeous Secretary.]
I froze at the door, unsure of what to do. Jerome naturally took the umbrella from my hand and said, "The rain's heavy. Use the umbrella to get to the car. If you get sick, I'll have to donate blood again." Then he scooped up Jessica, who was still complaining about the weather.
To the cheers of the onlookers, Jerome gentlemanly opened the backseat door for Jessica, then climbed in himself. The crowd's cheering grew even louder as the pink Rolls-Royce rocked rhythmically, stopping only after a long while.
When Jerome got out, his tie was crooked. Yet, he held the umbrella high, letting himself get wet while keeping Jessica dry.
Once the umbrella was no longer needed, Jerome discarded it without hesitation, forgetting that I was still standing in the rain.
But it didn't matter. From the moment he took the umbrella, my heart had already been soaked by the rain. What difference did it make whether I had an umbrella?