Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Raymond sipped the chamomile tea that Hazel prepared for him slowly, along with toast, scrambled eggs, and carrots bacon, giving off a scent that should have whetted his appetite. Instead, he just stared at his plate with a spiritless look and took another sip of tea until there was little left.

‘Is my cooking not good?’

Raymond shook his head.

‘Sorry. It must not be as delicious as yours…’

‘That's not the problem…’

The woman no longer responded. He looked at Hazel, busy enjoying her breakfast with her calm face.

‘Don't take your medicine after drinking the tea. Not good.’

Raymond nodded. Deep in his heart, he did not intend to take the pain reliever. It was better if he just let the pain remain, to remind him of the reason that had brought him to this city.

‘Oops. I nearly forgot to tell you,’ Hazel wiped her lips, sipping the water from the glass on the left side of her plate. ‘You don't need to go to the cafe today. I told Edward that you need to take the day off.'

Edward? Ah, he forgot the name of his stern-faced cafe manager.

‘No. I can—’Raymond stopped quickly after he realized Hazel was glaring at him. ‘Fine. I’m not going anywhere. Give me the plates. I’ll wash the dishes.’

‘Great. If there's anything, call me. Understand?’

As soon as the woman went out of the apartment, he breathed a sigh of relief. He did not think that Hazel was the kind of nurse who was so fierce, that his breath was gasping with fear. Inside, he felt relieved because his girlfriend did not ask the reason behind his anxiety attacks earlier. But it felt like he was like a loser, letting an eighteen years old woman worry about him—a twenty-six years old man who just showed his weakness in front of that woman. He glanced at the breakfast menu. Actually, he lost his appetite after seeing flashbacks of memories that he did not want to remember. But he did not want to make Hazel sad, who already tried her best to prepare the breakfast that was usually his job. Reluctantly, he ate it.

Not bad. The doneness of the fried eggs was just right, according to his taste. Then this carrot bacon, it looked pitiful from the appearance, but as soon as his tongue touched this bacon, his appetite suddenly returned. The combination of spices with the texture of the carrots was perfect. When did Hazel make it? As far as he knows, the carrot bacon must be soaked with spices for half an hour so that it would be completely absorbed, then grilled it in the oven for fifteen minutes. But he did not see Hazel doing it earlier. The woman just put the bacon in the oven, then served it along with the scrambled eggs and bread that just came out of the toaster. Could it be that she used another recipe?

His phone rang, stopping his breakfast. He got up from his chair, looking for his smartphone which turned out to be tucked in between the sofa chairs, seemingly falling when he fell asleep last night. He looked at the number calling him, raised an eyebrow in confusion. On the contact list for the smartphone he had just bought after he arrived in town, he only had his coworkers at the cafe, Hazel, Amanda and her friends in his contact list. While remaining alert, he picked up the call.

‘Finally, you picked up my call!’

He felt relieved as soon as he recognized the owner of the voice that called him. ‘As usual, full of surprises, eh? How did you know my number?’

‘Did you forget that I have lots of ways to contact my little brother?’

Raymond imagined Martha winking when she said that. It was the usual thing that the woman did whenever he referred to him as 'little brother'. He laughed, then grimaced because the gunshot wound was still painful, making Martha worried with his condition.

‘I'm fine,’ he said as he walked back to the dining room, enjoying his interrupted breakfast. ‘So, anything to talk about?’

‘Really? I’m worried, you know? You’re the type that ignores your own body. Your injury was quite bad, from what I saw yesterday. Have you taken pain relievers?’

‘I was in the middle of eating my breakfast when you called me.’

‘Ray. Try to call me Sis. Like when you used to call me before,’ Martha was laughing as she said it. ‘Pretty please? With a cherry on top? You were cute at that time.’

‘Stop teasing me. I can feel the pain again thanks to you.’

‘Hmm, you’re boring,’

‘Call me whatever you want. I don’t care,’ Raymond sighed softly, finished his breakfast and then pushed the plate away from him while placing his hand on the table. ‘That thing was already over, Martha. If you don't speak your matters, I'll hang up the phone now. Three, two, one—’

‘Okay, okay. I'm talking now,’ said Martha. ‘We need to talk, but not on the phone. Are you free this afternoon?’

He vaguely considered Martha's offer for a moment, then nodded firmly. ‘No problem. Where?’

‘I'll text you. See you later.’

He hung up the phone, then got up from his seat. Put the dishes and the rest of the utensils Hazel used for cooking in the dishwasher.

***