No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

"Director Hudson, there you are! I was beginning to think you hadn't shown up."

I was just about to check if my breakfast had been tossed into the trash when Grant walked in, holding a bag. "Here, breakfast!"

As soon as he mentioned breakfast, everything made sense.

Breakfast had arrived, but it wasn't the one Dustin had sent over.

I didn't say anything, just looked at him, knowing he wouldn't bring me breakfast without a reason.

As expected, as he set down the breakfast, he said, "Got called into the office for overtime by Mr. Collins at 5 AM and I was so hungry I ended up eating the breakfast on your desk. This is to make it up to you."

I didn't buy his story for a second, but I was too tired to call him out on it. "No need to make it up, I've already eaten."

Truth be told, I hadn't eaten at all. For some reason, I had lost all interest in food these past few days, as if I had lost the ability to feel hungry, and even the thought of eating made me nauseous.

"You can't say that, you must think what I got isn't tasty. But trust me, it's specially made," Grant said with a mysterious grin.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Really? Well, let me have a look. If it suits my taste, I might take a few bites."

Opening the food container, I found a breakfast of scrambled eggs with shrimp and veggies, a porridge sweetened with maple syrup, and my favorite side salads.

I even had a hunch who might

it all," Grant said, reaching to

snapped the container shut. "Meh, just

these are your favorites, aren't

favorites?" I cut him off,

you mention

it up as he went along; I

had Ernest's fingerprints all over

Ernest was still playing these games, really getting under my skin and confusing me at the same time. What was he trying

meals, demand an explanation, but I held

more he did this,

change course even in love, let alone with a breakfast,"

lost for words, "then what do you want to eat? Just tell me, and I'll have... I'll have someone get it for

making sure I ate. If I didn't eat, he wouldn't be able to report

sauce with pancakes," I said, reminiscing about a dish my host in Galaxy Harbor once made for me. It was

local delicacy; his ignorance wasn't surprising, but Ernest would

talking about, let alone prepare it for me. Better

down at the