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I will be keeping the petty cashfrom the safe as you tore up my $15k the day you brought me to your house. I know I owe you,but you owe me too.
Colin counted fifty thousand dollars in all cash. He picked up his tumbler and threw it against the wall, hearing glass crunch everywhere. He picked up his phone and called his PI.
“Howards she made contact,” he said, picking up one of the hundred-dollar bills. Already plotting his revenge.
“Tell me what you know,” Howards replied.
Colin smiled, his first in months since the day she’d left him thirteen weeks ago. Sitting back down in his chair, he jiggled his computer mouse, prompting the screensaver to appear. His eyes landed on his green-eyed wife pictured on the screen. Instead of softening, they hardened. Colin gave himself permission to let his demons out full force when he got her back. Nice Colin was gone.
I AM getting you back. I’m coming for you, baby. Just wait. You’re going to get what you’re owed alright. We both are.
Chapter eleven
Mistakes
Six Weeks Ago. Seven weeks after leaving Colin.
Olivia walked up to the little ramen shop and pushed her way in, hearing the tinkle of the bell on top of the door. She paused and took in the smell of broth, spices, and the sounds of the people seated around little tables eating hot bowls of ramen. Most were Asian locals, however there were a couple tourists who’d recently found the spot and loved it. It was almost closing time as she walked into the little ramen shop that was only a fifteen-minute walk from her bungalow, ready to learn how to make a ramen dish from the little lady named Ying who ran the place.
The older woman took a liking to her as Olivia started coming in every night for a hot bowl of soup. Shortly, the two of them started talking, and Olivia mustered up the courage to ask for her to teach her to make the dish for herself. Eventually they struck up a friendship and she rather enjoyed the woman imparting her wisdom to her. She’d been there almost every night, learning to cook from Ying.
She gave the man at the front register a wave before making her way to the back kitchens where Ying was currently placing ingredients on the long table next to a steaming hot pot of soup. Olivia had been there the night before, putting in the various cuts of meat and aromatics for the broth to simmer overnight. She was back tonight to finish it up.
“Here, let me,” Ying motioned with her heavy-set arms for Olivia to turn around and bend down.
Ying took her hair and twisted it up into a high bun before shoving a chopstick into it, holding the heavy mass there. Olivia fought back familiar tears of sadness as the woman manipulated her hair. However, thanks to Colin, she didn’t have a knee jerk reaction like she used to at someone doing her hair.
Thinking of Colin, a tear fell out and her breath hitched on a sob. She pressed her hands into her thighs over the purple pleated skirt she was wearing and stood up as Ying tossed an apron over her head and tied it at her back before giving her a heavy pat on her shoulder.
Olivia turned and began adding ingredients to the flour.
“What is it, beauty?” Ying asked, ever observant. She was sitting back in a small chair at the table and watching Olivia manipulate the flour. She’d gotten good at making dough over the last couple weeks and Olivia attributed it to Mary’s teaching her how to make focaccia bread. At the thought of the older Spanish lady, Olivia cried anew, leaning back so as to not get tears in the dough.
“We can talk while we make the bao, beauty. What are you running from?” Ying asked softly.
Olivia sniffed. “Who said I was running?”
The elderly lady tsked.
“Cooking has a way of bringing emotion to the surface. You come in here every night and cry. Also, I can tell you don’t cook, so maybe you couldn’t have known that. You can’t come back here and not be emotional, beauty. The food won’t turn out right. It’s done, now we can roll out the dough and add the ingredients,” the woman’s kind voice caressed her and made her feel safe. The smell of the broth reminded her of her mother.
Olivia and Ying took time to pinch off small pieces of dough before taking a thin wooden roller and rolling the dough out into small circles. She added a small scoop of pork filling before pinching the dough closed.
“No, like this. See?” Ying said, taking her own dumpling and showing her how to twist and pinch the dough correctly.
Olivia nodded and opened her dumpling back up, mirroring the woman’s movements. She had about four dumplings set aside before she began to speak.
“Ying, you’re right. I am running,” Olivia said softly, glancing at the kind woman’s round face. She barely had any wrinkles. Ying’s kind brown eyes settled on hers softly and Olivia was again grateful to find there was no judgment there. However, the woman quickly let her know in these last few weeks that she was not above doling out gentle chastisement..
“Are you going to stop any time soon?” she asked as she rolled another piece of dough out.
“I don’t know,” Olivia whispered, her head tilting to the side as she contemplated her question. “I don’t know if I can,”
