That Woman, Emma.

Emma

I scrubbed the dishes vigorously with soap, the warm water soothing my tired hands. Standing for hours had taken its toll on my feet, but the bustling night at the restaurant had left a mountain of dishes to tackle upon my arrival. The sound of latex gloves squeaking against the clean surfaces filled the air as I worked my way through the remaining pile.

Despite the fatigue settling in, I knew the end of the night was in sight. Once these dishes were washed, I'd lend a hand in tidying up the dining area before heading home for some much-needed rest.

When I approached Justin about switching to kitchen duties instead of serving, he assumed it was related to the incident with Victor Hughes from the night before. In his kindness, he offered me the night off, but I couldn't bring myself to accept. I didn't want him to think I was taking advantage of his generosity or dodging my responsibilities. Instead, I explained Andrew's situation and how I wanted to contribute, and Justin, ever understanding, gave me the flexibility to come in late or even take a night off if needed. His compassion never failed to touch me.

I can't help but marvel at the existence of people like Justin in this world. His thoughtfulness and genuine kindness make him the most exceptional friend I've ever had. I feel incredibly fortunate to have him in my life. Even though Justin never questions it, I still make an effort to ensure he doesn't feel taken advantage of or used for his generosity. My appreciation for him runs deep, and I'm not one to step out of my comfort zone for just anyone. However, if the need ever arose to do so for Justin, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment. That's how much he means to me.

Honestly, I didn't sleep well last night, for obvious reasons. The thought of seeing him again never crossed my mind. In my eyes, he belonged to the past. Yet, how blind was I? Of course, he would come to Julienne. It's a hotspot for the affluent crowd, one of the most renowned restaurants in New York. His presence shouldn't have caught me off guard, but for the past year, I've convinced myself that I'd never encounter him again—until last night.

I found myself more alert than ever, scanning my surroundings in places where people like Victor wouldn't even think to tread. His disdainful glares didn't intimidate me, but they did churn my stomach. His mere presence served as a haunting reminder of my past desperation, of the lengths I went to in trying to sabotage his relationship. It's a cringe-worthy memory, reflecting on how terribly I behaved, chasing after a married man. Even if he wasn't married at the time, Victor Hughes was and always will be light-years out of my league.

Individuals like him don't notice people like me. We're not even a blip on their radar. I'm no beauty queen, capable of turning heads with just a glance. I'm just an ordinary woman, lacking a line of suitors eagerly waiting for my attention. Perhaps it was my ordinariness that drew me to Victor—maybe I longed to feel desired, and when that validation didn't come naturally, I tried to force it. I was living in a fantasy, blind to the potential consequences until reality came crashing down on me. Letting out a heavy sigh, I wonder if this is to be my fate—a life plagued by fear, embarrassment, and loneliness.

As I was lost in my thoughts, a voice startled me. I gasped and shuddered, swiftly turning to find Justin leaning against the kitchen counter. With a quick scan, I realized the kitchen was deserted—I must have zoned out while everyone else left. Luckily, there was nothing left to clean.

Meeting Justin's gaze, I chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I'm finished. Did everyone head out?" I asked, peeling off the gloves and tossing them into the sink.

Justin nodded, his arms folded across his chest. I sensed there was more he wanted to say, so I held back, waiting for him to speak. He sighed softly, his expression thoughtful. "You need to take it slow, Emma," he said gently.

Furrowing my brow, I responded, "I don't follow."

Justin's suggestion was nothing new. He often urged me to quit my job at the superstore and work for him full-time. But I couldn't shake off the feeling that it was a form of favoritism, something I'd faced before with disastrous results.