The Fickle Heart

That night, Henry invited me over to have dinner at the Moran residence.

When I arrived, Angela was bustling around the kitchen.

"You're here, Iris! So, you're the guest Uncle Henry mentioned, huh?" Angela said as she shot me a teasing wink.

Chuckling, I rolled up my sleeves and lent her a hand in the kitchen. Henry was a germaphobe, so it seemed like Angela was the one in charge of all the house chores.

When Carl arrived, he was startled to see me. Acting as if he didn't know me all that well, he greeted me stiffly.

Almost as if we had come to a tacit agreement, none of us mentioned the whole affair with the canceled engagement.

Throughout dinner, Carl kept serving Angela.

"Angie, the doctor said you need to avoid spicy food because of your injury," Carl said before shoving the plate of buffalo wings—the only spicy food on the table—toward me.

Our eyes met, and he hesitated briefly. Carl knew I couldn't eat spicy food, but he didn't care. Angela was all he cared about.

I was just about to take one of the buffalo wings when Henry stopped me.

"Hang on. I'll make you a sweet and juicy fruit salad," he said as he swiftly took the plate of buffalo wings away.

Still, as I watched Carl and Angela interacting with each other, I felt unusually bitter about it.