THE STAINED SHIRT
The afternoon found Brayen Mallen's office on the top floor of Mallen Tower cold and silent. Expensive steel panels and vast windows offered a view of the city, yet the room remained soulless. Brayen was immersed in work, his focus locked on the laptop screen on his desk.
A knock came at the door. "Excuse me, Sir. This is the lunch delivered by Mrs. Mallen," his personal assistant said.
"Just put it on the table," Brayen replied, his voice as cold as marble. He did not look at the assistant at all, displaying his indifference.
The assistant quickly placed the lunch box and left.
Moments later, the door to the room opened roughly. Lian Shaow burst in without permission. He was still busy rubbing his wet shirt with a tissue, but his eyes betrayed a hidden unease.
"Brayen, lend me a shirt. Look, I'm covered in spilled coffee," Lian complained.
Brayen finally lifted his gaze, looking at his damp friend.
"You look like a clumsy idiot, Lian," Brayen's sharp, baritone voice stated flatly from the corner of the room.
Lian chuckled lightly, a forced laugh. "I accidentally got coffee spilled on me; a girl bumped into me in the lobby." He paused for a moment, the face of the girl in the lobby with her frightened eyes and a bruise on her wrist flashed quickly through his mind. "But the girl was pretty too," he continued, trying to divert his own focus.
"Who did you meet today? You seem pleased," Brayen asked, standing and walking toward the small closet in the corner of his office, retrieving a spare shirt.
"I don't know, I don't even know who she is. She was like a ghost," Lian replied. "In such a hurry, as if she was running away from something, that she crashed right into me." Lian swallowed the rest of his sentence. He couldn't possibly mention the clear blue bruise he saw on the woman's wrist; it was too unsettling for casual recounting.
Brayen handed the clean shirt to Lian, his expression frozen again, as if the incident were merely an irrelevant minor disruption.
Lian finished putting on Brayen's clean shirt. He looked at Brayen, who was still stiff near the large glass window, gazing out at the view of Virelle City below.
"Do you have plans tonight, Brayen?" Lian teased, his tone light. "Oh, I forgot. You're a newlywed. Is your schedule now filled with romantic events?"
Brayen merely offered a faint smile a smile that didn't reach his eyes at all. "Do you think that's important?" he countered, his tone cold and emotionless.
"Of course it's important!" Lian laughed. "Aren't you going to introduce your wife to me? I want to see how beautiful she is to have married you."
Brayen didn't answer. He remained standing by the window; the shadow of the city beneath him seemed to reflect the emptiness inside.
Lian, accustomed to ignoring Brayen's coldness, turned to the table in front of him. "Ah, this is your lunch, isn't it?" Lian exclaimed, opening the lunch box from the mansion. As the lid lifted, the familiar aroma of home-cooked food instantly filled the room. Lian was surprised when he opened the lunch box.
"Wow, I have to admit, your new wife actually knows your favorite food," Lian praised, his eyes fixed on the roasted mackerel and clear soup inside.
It was then that Brayen abruptly turned around.
Brayen's gaze immediately fixated on the lunch box. His eyes narrowed, filled with burning suspicion.
Roasted mackerel.
"How does she know?" The question echoed in Brayen's mind. Roasted mackerel was a home-cooked dish that only Vallen knew how to prepare exactly the way he liked it. This was not just food; how could she possibly know.
__Brayen Mallen's POV___
I looked at my favorite food: roasted mackerel, neatly arranged in the lunch box delivered by Chiella. Roasted mackerel. The simple meal that Vallen always cooked for me every workday.
The sight instantly unlocked all the old memories, pulling me back to three years ago.
Lian, seeing the extreme change in my expression, seemed to understand. He walked closer and gently patted my shoulder. "It's alright, Bray. It's all in the past. Enjoy your lunch from your wife."
I picked up the fork, even though inwardly, I was still suspicious and angry at Chiella for daring to mimic Vallen. I only wanted to confirm the taste.
A small bite.
As the roasted mackerel touched my tongue, the pure, familiar flavor exploded in my mind. The exact same taste, a flavor I hadn't found in so long, the taste I had missed for the last three years.
Suddenly, tears freely fell. It wasn't a simple cry of sadness, but an outburst of three years of trauma triggered by a perfect sensory memory. I was crying because the taste of the food was too precisely like Vallen's cooking.
I swallowed the tears and the food simultaneously.
"This is like a dream, Lian," my voice was hoarse. "This tastes exactly like Vallen's."
Lian said nothing. He simply patted my shoulder, trying to reassure me. I didn't care about my pride or the piling work. Bite after bite, I finished the lunch—the first meal cooked by my wife. I ate it as if it were the last remaining piece of Vallen.
As the meal finished, I felt the emptiness Vallen left behind return, but this time it felt slightly different, slightly filled. I leaned back against the chair, trying to process the emotional turmoil I had just triggered with a single piece of roasted mackerel.
The intercom on my desk rang loudly, breaking the silence between Lian and me.
I pressed the speaker button without moving. "Yes?"
"Apologies, Sir. There is a sudden meeting with the Prime Minister within the next hour. The car needs to be ready in fifteen minutes," the assistant's voice reported in an urgent, formal tone.
I immediately called the private driver, ordering him to prepare.
Lian, still standing beside me, sighed. "You're so busy lately, Brayen. No, no. You're just keeping yourself busy, aren't you?"
I looked at him with a sharp gaze. "What of it? I just want to vent all the memories of Vallen, Lian. My mind is focused only on her." I asserted, "Only by working can I slightly forget that I've lost her forever."
"You need to start a new chapter, Brayen," Lian admonished, his voice now serious and profound. "Let Vallen be happy where she is. You have to keep living like a normal human being.".
Lian rose from his seat, walking toward the door, as if the conversation was final and he didn't want to linger and witness my despair. "Ah, I almost forgot," he said, stopping at the threshold and pulling a card from his pocket. "This is an invitation from Juan. The opening party for his new club."
Lian nodded once. "You have to come. Let's enjoy tonight, okay?"
I accepted the club party invitation card, my expression returning to flat. "Alright, I'll try." My mind was still clouded by Vallen's shadow.
That lunch made my heart a little softer, I don't know if it was because of the food or because of Vallen's memory that framed it.