I knew he tried to warn me that Phoebe was not someone I could even dream of.
After the meal, Jose pushed the leftover scraps from the soup bowl towards me. I didn't understand his meaning, so I poured the scraps into the trash can as usual.
But Jose suddenly raised his voice, glancing meaningfully at Phoebe. "Hans, if you don't like it, you can tell me. I know you didn't get to eat well in the mental hospital, so I specially saved the mushroom from the soup for you. That's top-grade mushroom. How could you waste my good intentions like that?"
Phoebe, who was holding the baby, looked over, her brow slightly furrowed.
I immediately bent down in a panic, retrieved the soiled mushroom from the trash can and shoved it into my mouth without hesitation.
"Thank you for your generous reward, Sir," I said.
Phoebe hurried over, worry flooding her eyes. Completely ignoring the child in her arms, she reached a hand to my mouth. "Spit it out, quickly!"
Acid churned in my stomach. Fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit, I forced myself to swallow it down and smiled gratefully at Jose.
Phoebe's eyes widened, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.