Love Is Like Water Spilled Chapter 1

By the new intern’s second week, I kept a dark blazer at my desk out of habit.

It was necessary. Whenever I wore a dress, she’d conveniently pass by and “compliment” me loud enough for the whole office: “So brave, Summer! Wearing a princess dress with skin that dark.”

Nathaniel—my boyfriend and my boss—just watched, sometimes chuckling with the guys.

If I stumbled with files, she’d clap and say I was faking it. If I drank strawberry milk, she’d clutch plain milk and ask if I was trying to act like a kid.

I endured it, over and over.

Until yesterday’s presentation. She glared at a typo on my slide and remarked, dripping with meaning: “Some people dress to get attention, but can’t even do their work right.”

Every eye turned to me and Nathaniel.

All the anger I’d held in finally snapped.

I threw my half-full water glass in her face.

Before I could process it, Nathaniel stood and threw his coffee at me, in front of everyone.

That night, I resigned.

* * *

When Nathaniel threw the coffee, I didn’t flinch.

The scalding liquid streamed down, soaking into my blouse. He’d thrown it with such force that the cup made a dull thud against my cheek before clattering to the floor. A fiery, stinging pain shot through my nerves as my skin instantly turned a blotchy red.

I looked up at him, stunned.

His hand was still frozen in the air, as if he, too, was shocked for a moment. But that flicker of surprise was immediately replaced by a deeper, more profound annoyance.

"Summer, did you have to make a scene? Right here, right now?"

The blue glow of the projector highlighted the sharp, tense line of his jaw, making him look like a stranger.

Whispers broke out around the conference table. Some people ducked their heads, pretending to be absorbed in their documents.

Amber Jones, the intern, slowly closed her laptop, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips. "Easy there, Mr. Shaw. Don't be so harsh. Look, you've scared the poor girl speechless."

Her words were like gasoline on a fire.

Nathaniel snatched a folder and slammed it onto the table. The loud bang made everyone jump.

He glared at me, his face a cold mask. "This is a professional office, not your living room. Anyone who can't separate their personal drama from their work has no place on this team. This is your only warning. One more time, and you're out."

The room was deathly silent.

I touched my dripping face and felt a hysterical laugh bubble up inside me.

Twelve years.

I had known Nathaniel since we were kids. I had been in love with him for twelve years.

He always said I was immature, too emotional.

But this was the first time he had ever publicly humiliated me.

My eyes burned.

The suppressed snickers in the room felt like a tidal wave, washing over me as colleagues whispered to each other.

Amber leaned against Nathaniel's side, her red lips curved into a victorious smile.

I couldn't take it anymore. I turned and walked out of the conference room.

I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I couldn't stay there, facing them.

Outside, the sunlight was blinding. The glass doors of the office building reflected my pathetic image: makeup streaked and ruined by the brown liquid.

I went to a convenience store and bought a pack of wet wipes and a face mask. The young cashier girl looked at my sorry state and quietly slipped two extra strawberry candies into my bag.

Clutching the candy wrappers, I stood by a trash can, and was suddenly thrown back to my first day of kindergarten.

Nathaniel had done the same thing then, pressing a strawberry candy into my palm and promising he'd always be there for me.