Devouring Love in the Raging Fire

"Miss Millian, hello, I'm the nurse here. Your boyfriend has paid for three days of fees." Said a woman. Ivana looked at her hand, "My boyfriend was here?" "Yes, the one who sent you over, looked like a firefighter. He paid for all the expenses," the nurse said again. Ivana said, "My boyfriend isn't a firefighter." She asked the nurse to turn on her phone for her, but there were no calls or texts at all. However, on her WhatsApp status there was a nine-photo collage of Ernest and Sydney eating together. The caption read: [You're still the boy who loves desserts from back then.] Ivana closed her eyes, the heartache unbearable. Five years of feelings were no match for the favorite woman. If you love that woman, Sydney Hamilton, so much, then Ernest, I won't love you anymore, I don't want you anymore. For half a month, Ivana's phone didn't receive a single message from Ernest. What filled it were nine-photo collages posted by Sydney. Some showed them eating, some showed them shopping. Some showed Sydney baking a cake while Ernest helped on the side and some had Sydney smearing cream all over Ernest's face like a painted clown … The latest post read: [My baby craving the taste from five years ago …] Ernest's call came through, "Ivana, make one of your signature brownies and deliver it to Stellar Hotel, Suite 888 tonight." "I can't." Ivana looked at her hands and, for the first time, refused Ernest's request. "Don't forget who paid to open your dessert shop!" he threatened. Beep ... before Ivana could reply, the call was cut off. The next moment, a message came in: [Ivana, thank you for taking care of Ernest these past years. Now that I'm back, Ernest should return to me.] Ivana gripped her phone tightly. For a moment, she felt her heart clench so hard she couldn't breathe. But gradually, she relaxed. Lifting her hand under the sunset, she looked at it. Five years ago, it was this hand that Ernest held tightly, telling her the desserts she made were the best in the world. He said he'd protect her hands forever and let her make desserts only for him. The fingernails she lost to frostbite hadn't even fully grown back. Her hands looked frightening. The cloud storage sync kept flashing and her home camera sent notifications. Ivana stared at their increasing photos and listened to Sydney's voice messages. They talked about everything: the past, the future. In hours-long recordings, not a single word they mentioned Ivana. It was only at the end that Sydney asked Ernest, "Ernest, during all these years I wasn't around, you and Ivana were doing well, right? Seeing you happy, I feel at peace. In a few days, I'll move to another city and we should stop contacting each other." Ernest sounded anxious, "No, no, it's not like that. Ivana is great, but I was with her because ... only her desserts taste like yours. Every time I eat her desserts, I think of you. Every time I see the dessert shop, I think how nice it'd be if it were you making them." The recording ended abruptly. Ivana touched her face, it was covered in cold tears. So it was just as she thought, she was only a substitute. She had believed that, in these five years, she had warmed Ernest's heart. But it turned out she was just a replacement. Now that the real girlfriend was back, whether the substitute's hands could still make desserts no longer mattered. Wiping away her tears, Ivana opened her email and found the invitation from the French Le Cordon Bleu Academy when she won the dessert competition five years ago. Back then, because she couldn't bear to leave Ernest, who had collapsed after Sydney left, she gave up on that opportunity everyone envied.

Nowadays, Ivana wanted to go again but didn't know if she still could. After some thought, Ivana sent an email to them, attaching her various awards over the years. While waiting for a reply, Ivana also researched other schools and their admission requirements. But the one she wanted most was still Le Cordon Bleu. Researching schools, checking flights, consulting about rental apartment ... Ivana busied herself until evening. Ernest's call came through, "Ivana! Didn't learn your lesson last time? Where's the cake?" his voice sounded furious. Sydney's voice clearly came through, "Ivana must've been caught in traffic again. Why you be so harsh with a woman? She might be scared." Ernest commanded again, "Ivana, I'm telling you, three minutes. Right now. Deliver the cake immediately!" Ivana held the phone and replied calmly, "I said I can't make it." "You've gotten spoiled, haven't you?" Ivana could already picture Ernest furiously pacing on the other end of the line. Over the years, Ivana had always gone along with Ernest. Getting up in the middle of the night to make cakes was nothing unusual, she had never said no before. "I can't do it. That's it. I can't." After speaking, Ivana hung up and put her phone on silent mode. Patients needed rest. Ivana told herself this and acted on it, asking the nurse to turn off the lights and going to sleep. The phone screen switched from call after call to countless incoming messages. The screen's light bothered Ivana, so she flipped the phone over, screen down. Ernest, whether you're happy or not, whatever you want to eat, whoever you want to eat with, it has nothing to do with me anymore. After a good night's sleep, Ivana saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of messages on her phone and felt it was ridiculous. For a cake, Ernest could persistently call and text her this many times. Even back when Ivana had a fever, fainted and was hospitalized, he had never given her such treatment. Judging from his messages, he didn't even know she was hospitalized and had a toe amputated. Ivana didn't intend to reply, she just compulsively tapped away all the notification dots. Then she opened her email. There sat one unread message. Ivana's heart raced, please, please let it be an acceptance! She opened the email and sure enough, it was an acceptance letter. Holding her phone, she cried tears of joy. At that moment, she suddenly realized it had been so long since she'd felt this happy. She got busy booking flights. Her foot needed another half a month to heal, so she scheduled her flight for a month later. She also needed to start looking for housing. She contacted local agents, wondering whether her broken French would be understandable. She couldn't bring too much luggage. Everything from before could be left behind. She'd only bring a few personal clothes and buy new things in France. *** Ernest's call came in again. After some thought, Ivana answered. Five years of feelings, even if they were breaking up, she wanted it to end as clearly as it began. "Ivana, have you had enough? It's been half a month and you haven't been home. Tomorrow's Sydney's welcome-back dinner. I won't hold this against you anymore. Make that award-winning Eternal Companion fondant cake and bring it over." "I can't make it." Ivana said casually. He roared, "It's been half a month already, haven't you had enough?" "Even another half a month won't be enough for me to come home," she said. "What do you mean by that?" he puzzled. "Oh no, don't scold her. Ivana might blame me," Sydney's syrupy voice chimed in. Ivana said again, "I'm hospitalized. I can't make it." Ernest exploaded, "What kind of illness lasts half a month? Stop pretending! She's your senior!"

Ivana found it utterly absurd. She couldn't understand what made Sydney a 'senior.' Back then, there were dozens of students learning under that pastry chef. How did Sydney suddenly become her senior? She had never recognized her as such. "I lost a toe. I can't come." Ivana looked at her right foot, now missing one toe and that day trapped in the freezer involuntarily flashed in her mind. Her heart clenched, though she didn't know if it was because of losing a toe or Ernest's heartlessness. The phone was silent for a moment. "Where are you?" Ernest's tone softened. Ivana said, "Alvarado Hospital. You don't need to come. I'm recovering well." He asked again, "Why didn't you tell me?" She explained, "You don't know? Your dear brothers should know. The freezer door at the dessert shop still isn't fixed, from what I hear." Ernest hung up. Ivana looked at her phone. She hadn't had a chance to break up yet, but no matter, there'd be time. She refocused on preparing for her departure, filling in all the necessary paperwork. With her flight scheduled for a month later, her visa couldn't wait. Hopefully, a quick-moving agency could speed things along. "Bang!" The hospital room door was kicked open. The man called Dominic rolled into the room. Ivana was startled but no longer surprised when she saw Ernest follow him in. That was just how he did things, direct, violent and fast. Over the years, Ivana had gotten used to it. "I asked him. That day, he locked you in for hours." Ernest kicked Dominic hard, sending him stumbling forward to apologize to Ivana. Ivana looked at Ernest calmly, "He locked me in for hours. But where were you?" Ernest's expression faltered for a second before resuming its usual composure, "Sydney returned that day. She's unfamiliar with the area and I thought since she's your senior, I'd pick her up at the airport." "You picked her up and that meant you couldn't answer your phone, return texts, or leave the keys to the freezer?" Ivana's tone was calm and indifferent. Ernest thought Ivana seemed different at that moment, perhaps angry. That was fine. She'd been angry before and after a few days, she'd be back to clinging to him with a smile. He said, "Enough already, Ivana." "Let's break up." Ivana looked at Ernest with unwavering calm. She had always thought it would be hard to say those words, yet the moment she did, her chest felt instantly lighter, strangely relieved. Ernest felt a sudden heaviness in his chest, "What nonsense are you spouting? You're breaking up with me?" She bravely said, "Yes. I'm breaking up with you. I'm not seeing anyone else either." He asked, "What do you want me to do? Chop off one of his toes to pay you back?" Dominic turned pale with fright, visibly trembling. Ernest would do it. Once, a thug made trouble at Ivana's shop and tried to touch her inappropriately. When Ernest found out, he had one of the man's fingers cut off and dragged him to Ivana to apologize. She said coldly, "If you cut his, will mine grow back? Or can you sew it back on for me?" Ernest's face darkened. Just as he was about to say something, his phone rang. Ivana could hear Sydney speaking. Ernest's expression eased, "I'll let this slide because you lost a toe. I'll pretend you didn't say any of that." Ting! A WhatsApp message from Sydney: [Do you think pulling this stunt will make Ernest come back to you?] Ernest left quickly. Sydney's WhatsApp status updated just a few minutes later.

The photo showed Ernest carefully lowering his head, tending to Sydney's tiny fingernail-sized cut, applying iodine and placing a bandage. Ivana found it a bit of an eyesore. Ernest had never done any of that for her. At most, he'd buy her some medicine and a bandage and back then, she had been unbelievably moved. Once, she clung to Ernest, asking him to apply the medicine for her. But he said he couldn't because he was afraid of blood. Now that she thought about it, that excuse had been far too obvious. A man who could sever someone's finger without blinking couldn't possibly be afraid of blood. It was just that, at the time, Ivana hadn't been able to see through it. The difference in treatment between the real one and the stand-in, that was just how it was, Ivana told herself. She stared at the photo for a moment. Hmm, it didn't bother her anymore. She even liked the post. That night was particularly quiet. Only her phone buzzed constantly with cloud syncs and activity on her feed. Ivana worked late into the night. The nurse scolded her multiple times before she finally went to sleep. By then, all her paperwork was filled out, her calls were made and all that was left was waiting for her visa. The next day, Ivana lazily woke up when the sun was already high in the sky. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw Sydney placing a bouquet of lilies on her bedside table, with a fruit basket on the chair. Before Ivana could say a word, she started sneezing. Covering her nose and mouth, she called out, "Nurse! Nurse! Get these flowers out of here! Throw them away! Open the windows! Air it out!" The nurse, naturally obedient to her employer, quickly removed the flowers and opened the windows to let fresh air in. Sydney blinked her big, innocent eyes at Ernest with a pitiful expression, "Ernest …" "Ivana! Sydney came to see you out of kindness and even brought flowers! You've gone too far. She didn't cause you to lose your toe!" Ernest shielded Sydney behind him. Ivana glanced at her heavily bandaged foot and almost laughed. Wasn't it ridiculous? Did Ernest think someone who could barely walk could harm Sydney? Ernest turned and stepped out of the room, grabbing the flowers left in the hallway and shoving them back into Ivana's arms. "Apologize to Sydney!" he commanded. Ivana's face was buried in the lilies. Her severe pollen allergy made her feel suffocated. Ernest, seeing her silent, pushed the lilies against her chest again. Her anger made her breathe harder and the pollen triggered even worse reactions. Ivana began to struggle to breathe. She reached out, gripping the call button on the bed, squeezing it so tightly her hand turned white. "Apologize! Do you hear me?" Ernest seemed oblivious to Ivana's pale face and bluish lips. He kept pressing the lilies against her, demanding an apology. By the time the nurse rushed in, Ivana was already struggling for air, unable to say a word. The experienced nurse immediately saw what was wrong. She shoved Ernest aside, tossing the flowers out of the room, "Quick! Call the doctor! Move! Make way!" "Who's the family member?" The doctor moved quickly, oxygen mask on, blankets adjusted, pupils checked … Ernest instinctively responded, "I am." A piece of paper was stuffed into his hands, "She's in anaphylactic shock, we're resuscitating her. Sign it!" Ernest didn't even read the paper. He quickly signed, an inexplicable sense of panic rising within him. As the adrenaline was administered, Ivana slowly regained consciousness. The doctor gave a few instructions to the nurse before frowning at Ernest, "As her family member, you didn't know she was allergic to lilies? Severe allergies can lead to shock! What kind of family member are you?" Ivana, now able to breathe again, glanced at Ernest before closing her eyes and turning her back to him. She didn't want to see him or talk to him right now, she was utterly drained.

"I … I didn't mean to, Ivana. Don't be mad at Ernest. I bought the flowers. It has nothing to do with him." Sydney sobbed softly, her voice dripping with artificial innocence. Ivana found it irritating. She turned her back to them, ignoring her entirely. Ernest said, "Ivana, Sydney already apologized. She meant well. Aren't you going too far?" "Ernest, stop. It's my fault," Sydney murmured weakly. "Ivana!" Ernest grabbed Ivana's arm, flipping her over forcefully. Ivana, who had barely recovered, was still as pale as a sheet. Ernest froze for a second. Sydney clutched his arm, "Ernest, Ivana just woke up. It's only natural she'd be upset. After all, it's my fault. She lost a toe and now she's … now she's disabled. It's understandable for her to have a bad temper." Ivana slowly withdrew her arm, which Ernest had gripped so tightly it hurt. She quietly watched Sydney perform her little act. "Ivana, I know you're unhappy, but you can't treat Sydney this way. She came to see you with good intentions. She even picked the lilies one by one for you. She just apologized, so now it's your turn to apologize to her," he said. Ivana's chest ached. In a hoarse voice, she repeated, "You … want me … to apologize? Ernest, you want me to apologize to her?" He wanted her to apologize to Sydney! A stranger might not have known about her pollen allergy, but Ernest definitely knew! When they first got together, Ernest had once bought her lilies too because he used to buy them every day when he pursued Sydney. Ivana, trying to hold in her allergic reaction, had accepted them. By dinner time, she was covered in rashes and running a fever. Ernest had rushed her to the hospital and upon finding out the reason, he'd laughed as he held her, calling her silly. After that, he never sent her lilies again. And yet, the moment Sydney returned, he'd forgotten it all. Of course, if the stand-in differed from the original, it could only be the stand-in's fault. "I did nothing wrong," Ivana said weakly but firmly. "Ernest, it's my fault. Blame me, okay? Don't argue with Ivana." Sydney's voice trembled pitifully, her eyes brimming with tears. One insisted on an apology, the other refused. The standoff persisted. "Enough noise! This is a hospital ward, it needs to stay quiet! What's wrong with you as a family member? She just got saved and you're here arguing with her?" The nurse, having seen all kinds of situations, sized up the scene immediately. Disgusted by the spectacle and Ernest's raised voice, she finally stepped in to shoo them off. Sydney couldn't stand the curious and disapproving glances from several nurses outside. Tugging at Ernest, she whispered, "Ernest, my stomach hurts." Ernest finally helped Sydney out, the nurses throwing disdainful glances at them as they left. "What kind of people are they?" The nurse rolled her eyes, watching them disappear down the hallway. Ting! A notification appeared on Ivana's phone. "Dear passenger Ivana Millian, your flight ticket has been issued. Journey: San Diego to France. Ticket number … Please arrive at the airport 2 hours early with your ID to complete check-in." The days before her discharge were peaceful. Sydney's provocative messages occasionally popped up, but Ivana treated them as regular spam. Her flight was scheduled for ten days later. The first thing Ivana did upon being discharged was head home to pack her things. The moment she opened her apartment door, she realized everything had changed. The small apartment, which could be seen entirely with one glance, felt foreign. The photos of her awards on the wall were gone, replaced by Sydney's graduation photos. Her pictures with Ernest had disappeared, replaced by photos of Ernest and Sydney. Even the polaroids stuck to the fridge were now shots of Sydney and Ernest.

The sticky note she'd left on the fridge before leaving used to say: [There's light cheesecake in the fridge that you like. Don't eat too much, you'll get a stomachache.] Now it read: [Sydney and Ernest's love-preserving fridge,] with a big red heart drawn beside it. The couple mugs she'd bought for herself and Ernest had been shoved into the furthest corner and mold had even grown inside them. The bed sheets in the bedroom had been replaced with a lily-themed set that Sydney apparently liked. The sofa cushions, the carpet, the bedside lamp, the trash bin, the shoe cabinet and the little footstool, everything within sight was unrecognizable to Ivana. She couldn't even find her slippers. In just one month, it felt as though her five years with Ernest had been wiped clean. Thank goodness it was summer. Ivana walked barefoot, wobbling slightly on the uneven floor. Her foot no longer hurt much, but her gait was still awkward as she was unused to walking like this. In the storage room, she found her suitcase. She also dug through the closet, now full of Sydney's clothes, to the farthest corner where she unearthed her own crumpled clothes. The clothes she'd still wear, she folded neatly. Anything Ernest had bought, she threw away. For a moment, Ivana wanted to toss out the closet itself, too, since she was the one who'd bought it. She glanced down at her foot, forget it. It had been used for years anyway, she could just treat it as a donation to the junk hauler. In the end, there was only a single, lightweight suitcase to take with her, but the pile of trash was enough to fill the entrance of the apartment. Just as she was about to call the property management to arrange garbage pickup, a timid young girl next door approached her. "Excuse me, Miss …? You don't want all this anymore?" The girl looked as though she had just moved in, not well-off, by the looks of her circumstances. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, glancing nervously at Ivana. For a moment, Ivana saw herself eight years ago, when she'd first arrived in this city. The room she'd rented back then had been much worse than this apartment. Back then, she, too, had timidly asked a girl who was moving out, "Miss, do you not want all of this anymore?" Ivana answered, "Yes, I don't need it anymore. Do you want it?" The girl's eyes lit up and she blushed with excitement, "How much do you want for it?" Ivana smiled, "Nothing. Do you have any coke? If you do, an iced cola will do in exchange." "Yes, yes, I do!" The girl hurriedly fetched a bottle of icy coke, her slippers dragging noisily across the floor. After taking a gulp of the coke, Ivana's spirits lifted considerably. "It's all yours!" She left the keys on the table and, with a swing of her suitcase, headed out the door to catch a taxi. She said, "Sir, end number 8210, Orchard Apartment." Watching the scenery blur past outside the window, Ivana breathed in the scent of freedom. Ernest called her again, spoiling the mood, though it didn't matter. She only had ten days left to endure. "Gaining some guts now, huh? You got discharged and didn't even tell me?" His voice was icy, the words forced through gritted teeth. "I wish you and Sydney happiness." This time, Ivana said it with an incredible calm. "That's enough! I've already called you, haven't I? If you keep acting like this, don't blame me for what happens! You know my temper!" Ivana found herself speechless, "If you don't want to hear me speak, you can hang up, you know." "Ivana!" he yelled. "Ah, don't yell at her again. Speak nicely," Sydney's sickly sweet voice interrupted as usual. "Hello? Ivana, it's me, Sydney." Ivana just said, "Oh." Sydney invited her, "Three days from now, it's my birthday. I don't have many friends here and Ernest booked the entire Nolen Bar. Can you come? We'll celebrate together, okay?" "I don't think I'll go. My foot isn't convenient." Ivana said. Sydney tried to persuade, "Ivana, are you still mad at me? I'll make you a cake to apologize, okay?"

Here we go again ... Ivana was in a pretty good mood today. Thinking it over, she figured it was just a meal, what's the worst that could happen? She'd be leaving for France soon and she didn't want to stir up any more drama. With the Gilmore Family's influence in San Diego, it wouldn't even be hard for them to stop her from boarding the plane. "Fine, send me the time," she finally said. Sydney texted her: [7 PM, Nolen Bar. (Location shared).] *** Ivana picked out the same dress she wore on her very first date with Ernest five years ago. She'd always been someone who believed in finishing what she started. By the time Ivana arrived, it was already 7:30. Nolen Bar was bustling. Most of the people there were familiar to her, Dominic, for one, was present again. There were also a few women who looked vaguely familiar. Ivana vaguely recalled they were Sydney's close friends. Dominic was the first to notice her and quickly approached with a mix of flattery and unwillingness in his eyes, "Ah, our chef is finally here! Ernest and Sydney are over there." Following Dominic's gaze, Ivana saw a large cake on the table, it looked familiar. Ernest was talking to Sydney, who playfully nudged his chest and then fell into his arms, giggling coquettishly. "Ivana! You came! Come on over!" Sydney waved her over, her face full of unconcealed triumph, like a hen proud of winning a fight. As Ivana drew closer, she got a clearer look at the cake. It was the exact design she'd drawn up as a plan to celebrate her five-year anniversary with Ernest. She hadn't expected Sydney to steal the idea and make it for herself. "Isn't Sydney's cake just gorgeous?" "I heard someone's always winning cake design awards in competitions, but those cakes look nowhere near as good as Sydney's." "Who knows if those awards were won by cozying up to Ernest?" Sydney's two friends chimed in one after the other, their disdainful gazes sweeping up and down Ivana. "Ivana's awards were all won on her own merit." It had been a long time since she'd seen Ernest. He seemed to be doing well, full of vitality. Only when he looked at Ivana did a hint of displeasure creep into his expression. "Ernest, don't say that. If Sydney were to enter those competitions, she'd definitely win too!" someone said. Ernest's eyes remained on Ivana and she quietly stared back. Sydney, ignored, bit her lip and called Ernest's name pitifully. Ernest glanced over at her and his expression softened. He said, "Come here. Sit next to me." Ivana didn't want to sit beside him, but sitting next to Sydney would be even worse. Her gaze scanned the available seats and Dominic immediately slid further over, hogging two seats with a single body. Sighing, Ivana settled beside Ernest. Fine, sitting here would also mean he'd hear her breakup message more clearly later. That way, she wouldn't embarrass him publicly. "Ivana, about last time, I'm sorry. How about you light the candles?" Ernest wrapped his arm around Ivana's waist, took the lighter from Sydney and pressed it into Ivana's hand. "Go ahead, light them." Ivana stared at the lighter. He knew she was afraid of fire, any open flame triggered her deep-rooted fear. Once, Ernest had even replaced all the stoves in their house with induction cooktops for her. For five years, her birthday cakes never had candles. Ivana thought for a moment, fine. She'd light the candles and once everyone was singing 'Happy Birthday,' she'd tell Ernest they were breaking up. Then, she'd find an excuse to leave. With the noise of the crowd, no one would even hear her. That way, everyone could save face. As Ivana lit the second candle, Sydney suddenly let out a sharp scream. Everyone turned toward the source of her scream and Ivana instinctively lifted her head to look. Just as she wondered what Sydney was shouting about, she suddenly felt a surge of heat rise sharply against her thigh.

Ivana looked down and saw that the candle she had just lit somehow fell onto the tablecloth. In an instant, flames leaped up, quickly spreading from the table to the couch. Ernest instinctively pulled Ivana to the side, trying to get her out of harm's way. Sydney tried to grab Ernest, but missed him and had to sprint over herself, accidentally knocking over a full bottle of whiskey. The fire grew rapidly and no one in the room was brave enough to approach. Sydney clung to Ernest, trembling, "Ernest, I'm scared." Ernest let go of Ivana and softly comforted Sydney in his arms. Ivana's face paled. She tried to move, but the two women behind her were pushing and shouting, occasionally letting out piercing screams, "Where's the fire extinguisher?" The flames had grown taller and Ivana found herself being pushed closer and closer to the origin of the fire. Someone, panicked, grabbed a curtain and began waving it at the fire. Ivana tried to retreat, but she was pushed forward by the crowd toward the flames. "Ah!" screams filled the air. The curtains caught fire too. The burning fabric whipped through the air, setting tables and sofas on fire. Panicked, the person holding the curtain shouted and threw the burning cloth straight toward Ivana. The red flames reminded her of her parents, triggering an overwhelming fear that froze her in place, making her unable to react normally. The curtain landed on her head and Ivana instantly became engulfed in flames. "Ah! Ah!" The room erupted in screams, some for Ivana and others for various people. Ignoring the searing pain, Ivana trembled, using her shaking hands to rip the burning curtain off. "I can survive this! I can survive," Ivana kept repeating to herself, trying to calm her mind. Her hands burned horribly, worse than when she was locked in the cold storage before. "Sprinklers! Fire extinguishers!" Ernest yelled angrily. "Call 911! Call 911!" Finally managing to tear the curtain away, what Ivana saw was utter chaos. She was now surrounded by flames. The sprinkler system had not responded. The alarm didn't go off and the fire extinguishers were nowhere to be found. Through the thick, suffocating smoke, Ivana saw Ernest carrying Sydney as they rushed toward the exit. Everyone else surged toward the door, leaving Ivana to be completely surrounded by the fire. She gritted her teeth, pushing forward through the terror, hoping to escape. But the flames were too strong. She had no choice but to carefully dodge the flickering flames. Her arms, legs and feet were all burnt, but she didn't have time to care. The smoke choked her, tears streaming from her eyes, her breathing becoming labored. She stumbled, searching for a bathroom, hoping to soak her clothes with water to cover her mouth and nose. Everywhere she turned was fire, smoke and heat and she couldn't tell which direction to go in. "I won't die. I will survive. Why? Just seven more days. Just seven more days and I can go to France. My visa has already been approved. Mom, Dad, are you coming to pick me up?" Her consciousness began to fade, the black, choking smoke enveloping her as she saw what seemed to be her parents' faces. Her parents had died in a fire when she was younger, too. It was the same, the fire and the smoke everywhere. Ivana remembered her dad, holding her and her mom as they ran out of the kitchen. Then, her dad disappeared. Later, her mom had hugged her tightly, placing her into a firefighter's arms. After that, her mom also disappeared. She sat surrounded by flames, hoping her parents would come out to hold her, stroke her head and say, "Ivana, don't be afraid."

But they never came back. She could no longer distinguish between their ashes and the ruins. For a long time, she had a great psychological trauma toward open flames. Even every night, she dreamed of the fire that took her parents. She wandered in the fire, lost, unable to find her dad, her mom, or an exit. When she woke up, she was already in the hospital. After Sydney returning to the country, somehow Ivana practically lived in the hospital. The nurse saw her wake up, "Miss Millian, you're awake." Ivana asked, "Is it serious? Will I need to stay in the hospital a few more days?" "It's not serious. Just some superficial burns, they might leave scars, but after observation, you can leave soon," A male voice spoke up and Ivana turned her head. It was a young firefighter. "Your boyfriend is really good to you. He's been waiting for you to wake up." said the nurse. Ivana wanted to explain, but before she could say anything, the firefighter said again, "You're awake. I'll leave now. Here's my phone number. Call me if you need anything." He hesitated for a moment. "Winston Applegate," Ivana stared at the paper, murmuring. The doctor came to check on her. There were no major issues and she could leave in a few days. [You can't compete with me.] Sydney sent a message, followed by a series of photos. They were of Ernest comforting Sydney, with a few pictures of Sydney applying an ice pack to her slightly red skin. "Okay, he's yours." Ivana calmly replied with few words. The other side continued typing for a long time but did not reply. The plans to go abroad were nearly finished. Ivana opened her phone's social media platforms and gallery. She deleted all the love-related posts with Ernest, then removed every contact, even his email. She heard that Ernest had booked an entire floor for half a month just because Sydney fell during the fire and scraped her knees and hands. On the seventh day after being discharged, Ivana completed the discharge procedures and Ernest was hurriedly carrying breakfast upstairs. She glanced at his back coldly, then turned around and left without saying a word. Ernest felt a sudden, strong beat in his heart, as though he had forgotten something. He looked at the breakfast in his hand and touched his pockets, everything was there. Perhaps he was just exhausted from taking care of Sydney these days. Ivana arrived home and double-checked her materials. She went back to the dessert shop, where the freezer door had been replaced with a new one and a new pastry chef was working, showcasing new desserts at the counter. She retrieved her recipe notebook and packed a few of her own kitchen tools. As she was about to leave, she ran into Ernest, who had returned to get the chocolate cake. Ernest saw her and, momentarily guilty, appeared much gentler than before. He asked, "Are you taking it back to work on new products?" Ivana muttered, "Mhm." He said again, "Don't forget to let Sydney try it." Ivana didn't respond. She's a person who never promises what she can't do. Ernest also knew this. Seeing that she said nothing, his face darkened, "That day was an accident. There's no need to keep being angry." "Mhm." Ivana looked at the approaching cab on her phone, not wanting to waste more breath on him. "When you've made up your mind, you can come home anytime." With that, he grabbed the cake and left. Home? Whose home? Is it yours and Sydney's home? How laughable. The cab slowly stopped in front of the dessert shop, "Hello, is this your ordered cab?" "Yes, the last four digits are 8210." Ivana withdrew her gaze and placed her luggage into the car's trunk. The driver said, "Got it. Destination, San Diego Airport." "Yes, please hurry." Ivana took one last look at the shop, a place she had once built with Ernest, full of hope. When she was 19, she loved him from afar, too afraid to disturb, she only watched him quietly. At the age of 22, she stayed by his side wholeheartedly. The dream of her youth came true and her heart was full of joy. At 27, it all felt like a fleeting dream, vanishing without a trace. She closed the car door, her gaze and heart as still as dead water, devoid of any ripples.