Fulbeth sat in the quiet dark of his car, his eyes fixed on the entrance of the law firm where Edna worked. Hours earlier, at seven in the evening, he had asked her when she would be home, and she replied that she would be late, likely leaving the office between ten and eleven. Now, the dashboard clock edged closer to midnight, yet there was still no sign of her walking through those doors. Over the past few days, a cold distance had grown between them. Though they shared the same apartment, they had become like strangers, barely speaking or even catching a glimpse of one another. She would wake up in the early hours of the morning, meticulously preparing everything he might need for the day and the evening ahead, only to slip away to work before he could properly see her. She stayed late at the office every single night, ensuring that by the time she finally returned, he was already fast asleep. Tonight, however, he was determined to break the cycle and wait for her. Just a few minutes past midnight, the glass doors finally swung open, and he saw her walk out—but she wasn't alone. A man was walking right by her side. Fulbeth felt a sudden, sharp pang in his chest, though he tried to tell himself not to succumb to jealousy or pain.
He tried to convince himself that they were nothing more than casual colleagues or passing friends, but his racing thoughts refused to listen. Rationality faded as jealousy and anxiety took over. Pulling his phone from his pocket with a trembling hand, he dialed Edna's number.
From the isolated safety of his parked car, he stared through the windshield, his eyes locked onto her. Across the street, Edna pulled her vibrating phone from her bag. Instead of answering immediately, she stood still, staring down at the glowing screen. Fulbeth's heartbeat hammered violently against his ribs. A dark thought consumed him: if she refused to answer, it would be entirely because of the man walking closely by her side. If she let it ring out, it would be undeniable proof that this stranger held a higher place in her life, and that she didn't want Fulbeth interrupting their moment together.
The call chimed its final ring and was a second away from cutting out when the line suddenly clicked open. The heavy silence broke, but Fulbeth felt a sudden shock—as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been violently poured over his head—the moment her presence shifted to the other end of the line.
"Hello?" Edna asked. Silence hung in the air. "Hello?" she repeated, sharper this time.
The urgency in her second prompt finally forced the air back into his lungs, allowing him to find his voice. "Hel... hello," he stammered out, hating how weak he sounded.
On the sidewalk, Edna knitted her eyebrows together in immediate concern. Even through the cheap speaker of her phone, Fulbeth's tone sounded completely off. "Are you okay? Your voice doesn't sound right at all," she pointed out, her eyes scanning the immediate area.
"No... no... I... I am perfectly fine," Fulbeth lied quickly, his voice cracking under the weight of his anxiety.
There was a hesitant pause. "Okay, if you say so," Edna replied, clearly unconvinced. "Why are you calling me right now?"
"I... I came down here. I came to pick you up," he admitted, his defensive walls crumbling.
The moment the words left his mouth, the line fell dead silent. Across the pavement, Edna froze. She slowly raised her head and began to look around searchingly, turning her gaze toward the line of parked vehicles. Fulbeth held his breath until her sharp eyes finally locked onto his silhouette, cutting right through the tinted glass of his car.
"I am coming," Edna said softly, abruptly breaking eye contact and lowering the phone.
Through the clear view of his windshield, Fulbeth watched her turn back to the man beside her. He looked on as she offered a polite smile and a qick peck on the cheek, murmured a quick goodbye, and parted ways with him, turning her full attention toward the car where Fulbeth sat waiting.
He instantly began to feel hot, a wave of nervous anxiety washing over him. With sweaty palms, he reached forward and hastily turned up the air conditioning, desperate to cool down. Why was she even with a man alone at the middle of the night?
When Edna boarded the car, she was immediately surprised by how cold the interior was. A sharp shiver ran down her spine the moment she took her seat.
"Why is the air conditioning turned up so high?" Edna scolded, rubbing her arms. "If you don't feel cold, I certainly do. Besides, it isn't good for your health condition."
Fulbeth didn't say a word. He silently reached over and lowered the temperature.
"You shouldn't have come here," she continued, looking over at him. "How long have you been waiting?"
"Not... not long," he lied, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.
He was trying so hard to stay calm, fighting the desperate urge to ask her about the man she had just left the building with. Yet, he knew better than anyone that he had no right to be jealous. He had no authority to cross those boundaries or ask the deeply personal questions that were currently running wild in his mind.
"You drove all the way from Zoolab to this place," Edna noted, her voice softening slightly. "That means you have healed and can finally do things on your own again."
Hearing those words, Fulbeth felt as though another bucket of chilled water had been poured over him, freezing the last of his hopes.
"I don't think so," he replied quietly, gripping the steering wheel. "Loneliness has completely overpowered the physical pain I knew I would feel while forcing myself to come here." Fulbeth conceded honestly. "And that is only because the pain is manageable."
"Let's go. It is already late," Edna replied flatly.
Fulbeth wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. Disheartened by her dismissive tone, he fell silent, started the engine, and began the quiet drive back to his apartment.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them for the entire ride. Neither spoke a word until the car pulled into the driveway. Once inside the apartment, Edna immediately turned toward her room, offering a cold, brief, "Good night."
"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Fulbeth asked, watching her retreat down the hallway.
"No, I have already eaten. Good night," she said without turning around, closing her bedroom door firmly behind her.
Fulbeth stood in the hallway, staring blankly at the closed door for what felt like an eternity. A heavy sigh escaped him before he finally retreated to his own room. He tossed his belongings onto the bed and headed to the bathroom to wash the exhaustion from his face.
By the time he finished, his stomach groaned with hunger. Aside from a hurried breakfast early that morning, he hadn't eaten a single thing all day. He quietly made his way to the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. He prepared a modest meal: a warm cup of milk tea, a small side salad, and a piece of crisp toast.
He carried his plate to the dining room and ate in silence, the ticking clock the only sound accompanying him. Once finished, he cleaned up, turned off the overhead lights, and stretched out on the living room couch. He knew he shouldn't sleep right after eating, so he decided to lie there to let his food digest. Pulling out his phone, he began aimlessly scrolling through his apps. His eyelids grew heavier with every swipe, and before he even realized how exhausted he was, he drifted off into a deep sleep.
Soon, Fulbeth was dreaming. In his dream, Edna walked up to him with the most beautiful smile and sat right on his crotch. The sensation of her sitting on his crotch sent a sudden, electric jolt of pleasure straight through his body. Fulbeth let out a soft, involuntary moan.
However, the brief bliss vanished instantly, twisted into a sharp, agonizing groan as a sudden, heavy pressure flared across his bandaged wounded shoulder.
The searing flash of pain violently yanked him out of the dream and back into reality. Disoriented, Fulbeth tried to sit up quickly, but his tangled limbs betrayed him. He ended up tripping over his own feet, falling heavily to the floor, and striking his temple hard against the sharp wooden edge of the center table.
"Tsch," he hissed, pressing a hand to his throbbing head as he stumbled back to his feet in the dim room.
Fumbling in the dark, he grabbed the light remote resting on the table and clicked it. A harsh glare flooded the living room. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Edna on the floor nearby, awkwardly struggling to get back to her feet. Reaching out instinctively with his one unharmed hand, he gripped her arm and gently pulled her up.
"I... I'm so sorry," Fulbeth managed to say, his voice strained as he apologized.
Edna looked at him, her eyes clouded with emotion. "No... it's not your fault," she replied softly, pulling away.
In truth, her mind had been a chaotic mess ever since she had retreated to her bedroom earlier that evening. She wasn't feeling well at all. To be more specific, she was consumed by a suffocating weight of guilt—a feeling that deeply annoyed and frustrated her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't even her fault. She had loved him truly and deeply for so long, but he had never bothered to love her back. Why on earth should she be the one torturing herself with guilt just because he happened to see her standing with another man?
Desperate to wash away the suffocating thoughts, she had retreated to the bathroom. She took a long, steaming hot bath, hoping the heat would soothe her aching nerves before she finally crawled back into bed. Yet, the relief never came. She lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling for more than forty-five agonizing minutes, but sleep completely refused to find her. In the end she felt thirst and went to the kitchen to drink water.