In the background, I heard Lucia coughing. Then, the call ended. I tried calling back, but his phone was already turned off.
I smiled to myself. I wasn’t going to starve my body over this dog scum again.
For the next ten days, I lived on leftover. Frederick didn’t call once. In the past, I would’ve reflected on what I had done wrong—what had made him unhappy. I would’ve immediately gone to apologize. People around me used to say I was a "licking dog," and I admit it—I liked Frederick too much. For him, I threw away my self-respect and pride.
But after that life-and-death experience, I no longer cared. The old Sophie had died. I was now a reborn Sophie.
On the day I was discharged from the hospital, Frederick called and said he wanted to pick me up. "Where are you?"
Coincidentally, I had also been thinking of breaking up with him face-to-face, so I agreed.
"I’m in front of the hospital," I replied.
His tone stiffened, maybe recalling the last time he yelled at me. He asked again, "You’re really at the hospital?"
I remained calm. "Yes, the main entrance of the Army Hospital."
His voice softened. "I’ll be right there. Wait for me for twenty minutes and we’ll go to dinner."