25 Even If I Were Drinking Sulfuric Acid

Gemma's POV.

I sometimes think back to that night when I was drunk—the hugs, the kisses, and that scheduled email I sent. But then I wonder—what does any of this have to do with my future?

It's like walking down a road and a leaf falls from the head. The leaf might land on the ground or be blown away by the wind, but the person is destined to keep moving forward.

Meanwhile, my interactions with Jacob have been increasing, mainly because we've been drinking together. During the workweek, I stop by the café and notice that his attitude has improved a lot. He still doesn't smile much, but when explaining the products to customers, he speaks with patience. When he cleans the tables, he even makes sure to tidy up all the nooks and crannies under the tables and chairs.

The most outrageous thing is that young girls seem to be into his whole act now. When they walk in, they ask if there's a hot staff with an eyebrow piercing. They say his resting bro face is so classy, and that they came specifically after seeing him online.

As a result, the manager has put Jacob back at the front counter. Business has noticeably improved, with lines of young girls waiting to order. By the end of the day, Jacob often receives little slips of paper with phone numbers, which he throws into the trash.

I watch in amusement and tease him, "You're not into older women, fine, but what about the young ones? Not interested either?"

Jacob closes the lid of the trash can, places his hands on his hips, and frowns. "I don't have time for relationships right now. I need to focus on my career."

His words make me laugh. "What career? Your 2,500-a-month job, half of which gets deducted?This one? "

He raises a fist, pretending he's going to hit me. But I'm not afraid of him anymore—I know his tricks are just for show.

"Oh, by the way, do you have plans next Friday?" Jacob suddenly asks.

"Why?" I respond.

"Let's have dinner together on Friday night."

"I've got a company outing during the day. We're going hiking in the mountains."

"When does it end?"

"It's an hour's drive from the city, so I should be home by around six in the evening."

"How about we meet at seven then?"

"Sure," I nod.

It's already spring, but the mornings and evenings are still chilly, so I drag Charlotte with me to buy a windbreaker, getting ready for the outing.

As we are picking clothes, Charlotte seems to remember something. She looks up at me and asks, "Now that you've broken up with Luke, how does it feel to see him at work?"

I shrug. "He's the boss. I'm still relying on him to pay me, so how else should I feel?"

Charlotte falls silent for a moment before giving me a thumbs-up. "You're a role model for women."

"When office romances fail, they usually end with the woman quitting."

I grab a windbreaker and try it on in front of the mirror. "It's hard enough to find a job these days. I'm not about to mess with my paycheck."

Charlotte claps for me, "Warrior."

Friday arrives quickly. Every spring, Allum Motors holds a company outing event. This year, everyone voted to stay at a nearby mountain lodge, close enough to enjoy the scenery without the hassle of a long trip.

Our previous boss had always been much older than us, and his position made everyone feel pressured, so he never joined the activities.

I figured Luke wouldn't show up this year either, but when I arrive at the company's entrance at 8 a.m. and see the bus, I catch a glimpse of Luke's profile through the window.

I pause in my tracks.

A colleague opens the window and calls out to me enthusiastically, "Gemma, hurry up! We've been waiting for you!"

I nod and reluctantly get on the bus.

The atmosphere inside is eerily quiet. Every eye is on me, as if I had been caught arriving late to a meeting.

At the same time, I realized why my colleague had been so enthusiastic—Luke is sitting by the window in the front row, and every other seat is taken except the one next to him.

Resigned, I sit next to Luke and greet him half-heartedly, "Good morning, boss."

Luke responds indifferently, "Morning."

We don't say anything else.

As the driver starts the bus, I put on my headphones and listen to music, while Luke stares straight ahead, motionless for the entire one-hour ride.

When we finally arrive in the mountains, I'm the first to get off the bus, quickly blending in with my colleagues and trying to stay as far from Luke as possible.

The treasurer, however, is eager to please, walking over to Luke and offering to carry his bag.

Luke declines.

Curious, I turn to a colleague and ask, "Why didn't the treasure sit next to the boss this morning?"

He's usually eager to curry favor with Luke.

My colleague smiles, covering her mouth as she whispers, "The treasurer can take up two seats himself. How could he sit next to the boss?"

I watch the treasurer's back as he waddles like a penguin because of his weight, take a deep breath, and chalk it up to my bad luck.

After we drop off our luggage, everyone starts dividing up the tasks. The main appeal of this place is its escape from city noise, which means there's a serious lack of modern technology—there isn't even a gas stove.

Not wanting to look at Luke's face, I voluntarily grab a basket and head up the mountain to collect firewood.

As I walk through the woods, breathing in the fresh air, footsteps suddenly sound behind me. I turn and see that it's Luke, also carrying a basket.

"Are you still drinking lately?" Luke asks.

What an odd question. And even if I were drinking sulfuric acid instead of alcohol, what does that have to do with him?

I pretend not to hear him and keep walking forward. Luke continues, "Drinking too much is bad for your health. Plus, always drinking with the same guy isn't good either."

I clench my teeth. His blind date came to the workplace to find him, and that's good?

But then I realize how ridiculous I'm being—what does any of this have to do with me?

"I don't think we know each other well enough to discuss our private lives, boss," I say, turning to him.

"Not even as neighbors?" Luke asks.

The wind sweeps through the forest, and occasionally, the sound of birds can be heard. I look into his calm, unreadable eyes. I'm not sure if he's looking at me or at the cornea inside me.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I smile. "Do you remember the text you sent me when you were in California?"

"I let you go and I wouldn't bother you anymore," Luke says calmly.

"And do you think you're keeping that promise right now?" I ask.

"I've already agreed to break up," Luke replies.

That's true. I nod.

"I'm not asking you to get back together with me," Luke continues.

Also true. I nod again.

"Then I guess that means I've kept my word," Luke says.

That's fair. I nod once more. But three seconds later, I furrow my brows.

"I need to gather firewood now, boss. I don't have time to talk to you." I bend down, picking up some dry branches and putting them into my basket.

Luke steps forward, picks up a branch near me, and says, " gathering firewood doesn't seem to bother people talking."

"There's nothing for us to talk about."

"You said we should keep it professional, boss and employee. Is this how you talk to your boss?"

My temper flares immediately.

I feel like I've fallen into Luke's verbal trap, but I can't figure out how, so I just try to physically distance myself from him—I turn and walk away.

But Luke follows me. When I speed up, he speeds up. When I slow down, he slows down.

This reminds me of something unsettling. The first time I drank

with Jacob, I got drunk and standing in the elevator. Was it Luke who took me home?

And what does he mean by "always drinking with the same guy isn't good"? How many times has he seen me drinking with Jacob? Has he been secretly watching me all along?

I take a deep breath, pick up my pace, and start to run.

I just want to get away from Luke, but in the next second, my foot seems to catch on something, and I suddenly stumble, falling with a thud into the bushes beside me.

The weather is clear, and the ground is dry. Dust rises, and I can't help but cough.

"Get up." Luke catches up to me and offers me his hand.

I look at his hand, then turn my gaze elsewhere. "I can do it myself."

I brace my hands on the ground, ready to stand up.

"No, you can't," Luke says suddenly.

"What do you mean I can't? I'm not a child—" I follow his gaze and swallow the rest of my words.

Not even a meter away from me, a light brown snake has emerged from the bushes, flicking its tongue.

My breath catches.

"Don't be afraid," Luke says calmly, reaching behind him to grab a stick to move the snake away.

But it's too late.

The snake lunges at me, and I close my eyes, letting out a groan in pain.

But it's not the snake that hits me. Luke, a man over six feet tall and solidly built, throws himself over me instead.

The bushes rustle as the snake slithers away at lightning speed.

I turn my head to look at Luke. His face is pale, and then I notice his arm wrapped around me. Two distinct bite marks have appeared on the back of his hand.