Chapter 8 The Miserable Identity

Alison gave a bitter smile, realizing she was just a roommate now. How pathetic.

If it weren't for those photos, she would've shut her laptop and left long ago.

But what happened last night had already happened, and her first time was gone. It was too late for regrets now.

She simply replied with two words: "I agree."

She didn't even want to say another word to that person, not a single extra syllable.

That person made her feel ashamed and hateful. She wished she could kill him, but first, she needed to know who he was.

Alison thought she would have to wait half an hour or an hour for a reply.

But as she clicked the mouse out of boredom, the email came back quickly.

The reply was simple, just two words: "Continue."

This meant she just needed to stay by Jack's side.

Was it really that simple? She wondered, and quickly replied: "As long as I stay with him for three months, you'll delete the photos?"

But she waited and waited, and there was no reply.

Clearly, the person didn't want to answer that question. If they did, they would have replied as quickly as before.

No reply likely meant the answer was "no."

In other words, she had to do more than just be Jack's lover.

She kept refreshing her email, but when she realized there would be no reply, she asked another crucial question: Who exactly is Emily?

Again, no answer.

After checking her email repeatedly, she finally had to shut down her laptop because she was starving. If it weren't for needing the laptop to contact that person, she wouldn't even want to look at it.

She was extremely disgusted by that laptop.

So, Alison walked into the kitchen, deciding to fill her stomach first.

The kitchen was spotless, clearly unused for a long time.

Opening the fridge, she found only a shriveled apple and a few eggs.

Though not fresh, it was better than nothing.

Alison ate the apple and fried two eggs, feeling a bit more energized.

Then, she soaked the dirty bedsheets in a basin, grabbed her small bag, and went downstairs.

She had noted the way when she arrived yesterday and remembered there was a medium-sized supermarket outside the apartment.

Alison bought a bunch of essentials, along with some noodles and vegetables, and returned to the apartment.

Just as she put the groceries down, the phone in the living room rang.

Hearing the ring, Alison hesitated, unsure if she should answer it.

After all, this was Jack's apartment, not hers.

Answering someone else's phone felt inappropriate.

Alison let the phone ring without picking it up.

She busied herself tidying the room, washing the bedsheets, and preparing the vegetables, keeping herself occupied.

She only cooked for herself, knowing from the pristine kitchen that Jack never ate at the apartment and wouldn't be coming back.

Alison quickly finished cooking, but the worker Jack mentioned never showed up.

She made two dishes and a soup, just enough for one person.

Just as she was about to eat, there was a knock at the door.

Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly put down her fork and knife, eyes fixed on the door.

The door opened, and it wasn't the worker but Jack who walked in.

This was the second time she had seen him.

Thinking about last night, she instinctively stepped back, her heart pounding loudly.

"Uh, Mr. Jack, you're back."

Jack glanced at her casually, his eyes landing on the table. "Did you cook this?"

"Yes."

He said domineeringly, "Is it even edible? Throw it away." He walked to the table, ready to dump the food into the trash.

"Hey, don't... don't throw it away!" Alison stammered, terrified of confronting him directly.

"Your cooking either lacks seasoning or is burnt, never edible." Jack had already picked up two plates, ignoring her protests.

"It smells good, really, just try it." She urged him in a panic.

"Really?" He lowered his head to sniff the food, then raised an eyebrow. "It does smell good." He pointed to the utensils on the table. "Have you used these?"

"No, I haven't used them yet."

Jack unceremoniously picked up the knife and fork, taking a bite.

He chewed slowly at first, then faster, and tried another dish.

Finally, he sat down and ate all the food she had prepared. After finishing, he handed her the empty bowl. "Give me some more."

"Okay." Seeing him eat so heartily, she reluctantly took the empty bowl to the kitchen.

There wasn't much food left.

She carefully scooped out the remaining food, but it was only a little over half a bowl.

He definitely wouldn't be full, but she couldn't make more out of thin air.

She placed the food in front of him, and he continued eating, completely ignoring her presence, as if she were just hired help.

After finishing, he handed her the bowl again. "Give me another half bowl."

Alison was stunned, looking at the bowl. She whispered, "How about I cook some noodles for you?"

"No, noodles won't have any vegetables." He scooped a spoonful of tomato soup, then complained, "Why is there no meat?"

Alison didn't know how to respond, standing beside him, nervously tugging at her clothes.

"I'm talking to you, didn't you hear me?" Though the soup was light and tasty, he was unhappy with her silence.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were coming back for dinner, so I only cooked for myself. Now there's no food left. Also, I didn't know how long the eggs had been in the fridge, but they didn't seem spoiled, so I used them to avoid waste."

Jack's hand slipped, and the spoon fell into the soup bowl.

"Do you think I came back to eat your food? I called you seven or eight times, and you didn't answer. I thought you had a gas leak or something." He looked her over with annoyance. "Alison, why didn't you answer the phone?"

She trembled. "Sorry, I didn't know it was you. I thought it was your friend, and it wouldn't be appropriate to answer."

"Alison, you really have lost your memory. Only I know this phone number, not even the workers. So, if the phone rings, it's definitely me. Remember, from now on, you answer the phone when it rings, got it?"

"Okay." She answered softly, not wanting to anger him. She just had to endure him for three months, and then she'd be free, never having to see him again.

"Go change your clothes."

"Change... change into what?" His presence was overwhelming, the faint scent of his cologne making her want to sneeze.

"Something decent. We're going out."

"Out? Where to?"

"Just do as I say. You have ten minutes." He turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, confused and anxious.