Simmer & Stir

Chapter 33

Dearest Philip,

It's been a week but neither John nor your folks have received your call. I'm starting to worry now.

Somehow, John was able to track your mailing address so here is the second part of my apology.

Philip, I miss you. Every part of me longs for you. Every corner of my apartment, places where you sat, slept or even touched reeked of your memories. I am sorry for pushing you away, for not giving us another chance. I heartily apologize for not considering the possibility that you didn't want to hurt me by telling me the truth.

You love me with all your heart and I was the blind one to ignore it. Ignore all the signs and the possibility that there was more to the truth than you stated.

Please, I beg you to give me a chance at making it up to you. Just one chance to redeem me. Once, just once more, save me.

Call me, respond to me. Contact me somehow, Philip.

I wish you all the luck with your work.

God, I can't even fake it.

I love you, Philip. I miss you like a parched man in a desert storm, hoping for a miracle, praying for a sight of an oasis.

Liberate me of my suffering, baby. I beg you to talk to me. You can yell and scream. I swear I won't cry but dammit, please talk to me.

I miss your morning messages, your evening greetings. I miss my Philip.

Love

Daisy.

~

The second letter was posted while on my way to work. On the way to my new job, to be precise.

Glass and Ice's head, Joseph Clementine was thrilled when I told him I'd take up the job before going to Roseville for the break. At that point, I wanted to move away from Philip and anything that reminded me of him.

In retrospect, it was the stupidest decision I had ever undertaken. I had left the familiar, venturing into the unknown. I had left Philip behind to take up a new life.

Every night before bed, my folks called me to ensure we didn't have bad blood between us. As much I wanted to hate them for what they did, their reasoning sat well in my mind. I couldn't deliberately hate them for what they did. It would be selfish of me to drag them into the hells of despair because I was burning in it.

Speaking of selfishness, after Linda's father took over the restaurant, he made her the head chef. She was forced to stay with him and had to move out of our apartment. When she came to collect her stuff, there was not a shadow of doubt about her suffering.

Linda's father wanted her to make a name for herself. Getting her the head chef's designation in the kitchen of a well-conducted restaurant served his purpose.

During my last few days working at Three Aces, my job felt pitiful. I was demoted to peeling and chopping as opposed to cooking. Though it was under Linda's instructions, I knew well who pulled her strings.

I had powdered GM's pride the day he came to threaten his daughter at the restaurant. I stood up for her then, not having calculated the repercussion. Now GM had his turn and he ensured I danced to his tunes.

But Steve had it the worst.

On one occasion, Linda told me the reason for her breaking up with Steve.