Gone Was His Jasmine

The straw that broke the camel's back was an episode from three months ago. What it came down to was a matter of priority.

On that particular day, Sophie was cut by a marble slab somewhere in the affluent district of the Hamptons. At the same time, I was conducting a site survey at an abandoned factory in the Bronx and ended up hurting myself when I fell from a stairway. The injury she sustained was only a tiny cut, no longer than a centimeter in width, while I suffered a spinal injury. Even in the same city, our fates were a sharp contrast.

The extent of Ethan’s concern for me was limited to a short sentence, asking, “Are you okay?”

Meanwhile, he made a grand and chivalrous display of taking Sophie to the best hospital in the region in his Tesla. He was so worried for her that he even sought medical advice on social media with a post that read, “Urgent! What's the solution to preventing a potential scar?”

From the pictures, I could see Sophie seated in the passenger seat of his Tesla. Despite how frail she looked, she was still mesmerizing. Meanwhile, I lay all by myself in the emergency room surrounded by the smell of disinfectant.

I watched as Ethan exchanged quips and banter with his friends in the comments section while ignoring the texts I had sent him. The indifference he directed toward me hurt more than the spine injury itself.

After spending a sleepless night, I went to see him while still strapped with a heavy brace on my back. I found him in his office staring intently at a model of a Rhino, which Sophie had designed on the screen. His brows were furrowed with focus, as if that was a thousand times more important than my condition.

“Give me a second, Arya. There's a structural problem here.”

He didn’t even bother to turn around to face me.

I stood outside the glass door and watched as he fiddled with Sophie's design. In the span of two hours, it finally occurred to me that even a measly sketch was more important to him than I was.

There was a Young Architect Award certificate issued by the Institute of Architects, which he received last year, framed on the glass door.

At one point, his secretary Emma approached to inform me in a lowered voice. “Arya, Ethan is still going over the design with Sophie, and it might take at least two more hours…”

She examined my reaction briefly before continuing, “Why don't you come back later?”

I insistently shook my head and said, “I’ll wait for him.”

Emma seemed troubled by this.

“You might distract them if you stay here.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through me, which made my whole body collapse under its weight. Fortunately, Emma grabbed me just in time.

The sudden commotion caught Ethan's attention from the other side of the glass wall. He glanced over in my direction and seemed not very impressed with the scene he was witnessing.

“Please escort the unauthorized personnel.”

He spoke with clear conviction as if he was doing what was right and kicking out an unwanted homeless man from a dignified venue. Then, his gaze lingered on my twisted posture for a moment. His lips seemed to tremble slightly as if he wanted to ask if everything was fine.

“Ethan, how about the light projection…”

His attention was quickly redirected back to the screen when he heard Sophie’s faint and pleasant voice. The concern he directed at me vanished like a mirage. It seemed to last all but a split second before it dissipated like dust.

The message was clear enough. He wanted me to drop the act, be professional, and get out of here before I embarrass him. Once he was done, perhaps he would be generous enough to send me a copy of the meeting minutes he jotted down with Sophie as a way to “make up” for what happened today.

The air conditioning unit droned on dully and endlessly. The only thing separating us was a wall. He was the one with the power over the temperature, while I was left to shiver from the mixture of the lingering heat of Manhattan in July and the air conditioning.

I pulled the coat tighter around myself before turning and heading out through the elevator.

Five years ago, we graduated from Columbia University together and vowed that we would take the city by storm.

However, it looked like I was going to have to accept the bitter truth that the man who once walked by my side was gone.