He was impeccably dressed as always, maintaining his poise even in such a shabby setting. Yet his eyes were cold, impersonal, as if he were looking at a stranger.

Melissa's lips parted slightly, a hint of awkwardness on her face.

She felt more self-conscious than she had been at the cafe, unsure of what to do with her hands.

Marcus, with a cigarette between his lips, said slowly, "Do you love him so much that you'd go to any lengths for him?"

He was a man whose pride wouldn't let him easily discuss Ryan's scandal.

Marcus gazed at Melissa, puzzled about what she might say.

He hoped she would plead with him, admit her feelings, and ask him to take her back to Duefron.

In his mind, Marcus thought if Melissa begged, he might consider helping her. He planned to help her. She couldn't expect more.

Finally, Melissa said softly, "Yes. I do love him a lot."

Marcus' expression turned sour.

He mocked her, “Great. You two are made for each other. Then why do you want to end things with him?"

Melissa found herself at a loss for words with Marcus.

She couldn't confess to him that her heart belonged to someone it shouldn't. She could deceive Marcus, pretend to be with him, but they were so different, plus she already had a boyfriend back then.

It was too awkward for her.

Unable to find the right words, Melissa remained silent.

Marcus watched her silently. After a while, he finished his cigarette and walked away.

In the dimly lit kitchen, the light struggled to shine through.

Melissa blinked, bowing her head as she continued to scrub the greasy plates.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, mingling with the oily water.

Late into the night, she didn't stop washing until her fingers pruned and her back ached. She picked up the 100-dollar bill the owner had left on the table and trudged away, exhausted.