That night, I sat in front of my grandma's bed before she had gone and received a call from Jared. A sweet voice came from the other end of the phone, "Jared, can you come and accompany me on rainy days from now on? I'm really scared."
"Okay," A deep and familiar male voice came through.
I relived every fleeting moment with Jared; those tender promises and gentle embraces, now transformed into piercing daggers, tearing through my heart. "I don't understand why you can be so heartless, abandoning all of our past for her. And when I needed help and companionship the most, you went to be with someone else. Perhaps, this is what you meant by saying she is more like your first love than me."
I couldn't help but send a message to Jared: [Is she the important client that you refused to meet with me for?]
I spent the entire night by my grandmother's bedside, where she had passed away, greedily trying to cling to the last remnants of her breath.
The next afternoon, I finally received a reply from Jared: [Vera, you have always been strong and capable, but Wendy is different. She needs me.]