Chapter 3 A Habit Hard to Break
1563 Words
The girl who stepped out of the car couldn't have been older than twenty. With chestnut hair, golden eyes, and a willowy figure, she looked every bit the young aristocrat.
It was Tina Horne, Herbert's niece and a dance major at Harrings University.
"Giselle?" Tina's mocking voice sliced through the evening air. "What are you doing here? Trying to enroll at Harrings University? You do know this place is one of the world's most prestigious universities, right? Royals and nobility from across the globe study here. It's not exactly a place for someone like you. You're just my uncle's... let's be honest, his lover. No talent, no credentials—what makes you think you could ever get in?"
What none of Herbert's family knew was that Giselle had once been a student at Harrings University. Only Herbert had known the truth. To everyone else, Giselle was nothing more than a pretty face without substance.
Tina sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "How could a nobody like you suddenly want to study here? Oh, wait. Are you here looking for your new prey? Is that it? You've already been my uncle's mistress. Shouldn't you be taking care of him instead of prowling around for your next target?"
Giselle sneered. "You seem so worried about your uncle being taken care of—why don't you do it? You could join him for a little threesome. Aren't you supposed to be a student? Have you maxed out your GPA yet? Perfected your basics? Maybe you should focus on your own life instead of meddling in mine. And for the record, I already dumped him. He's a grown baby who can't even feed himself. Why would I waste another second of my life on him? You better hear this loud and clear—I didn't lose him. I let him go."
Tina's confident smirk faltered, but only for a moment. "You're insane. You didn't break up with him. Stop lying. Everyone knows you'd die for him. There's no way you gave him up willingly."
She glanced at the small group of students who had gathered nearby, brushing her hair back in an attempt to regain her composure. "I don't have time for this nonsense. I've got practice."
Tina, as a dance student, always wanted to become Clarice's apprentice.
She'd heard that Roger, the one she admired the most, was looking for a new dance partner.
If she could snag the role, she'd have a shot at studying under Clarice herself.
Therefore, she specifically learned about Roger's schedule from the others and was confident to make him agree.
Tina's attitude wasn't surprising, but it no longer mattered. Let them think what they wanted. Time would prove that Giselle Gallardo was no longer the woman they thought they knew.
*****
Night had fallen over the city.
At the Redland Pub, Herbert was nursing a drink, reluctant to go home.
Giselle was gone, yet somehow, her presence lingered everywhere. Herbert couldn't explain why it bothered him so much, why his thoughts kept drifting back to her.
Fenn Garvey, heir to a luxury fashion empire, lounged beside him on the red leather sofa, swirling his drink. "Herbert, you'll never guess what I heard today. Gigi dropped a few million at my family's boutique this morning."
"Millions?" Lester swirled his drink and shook his head with a smile.
"She opened a thirty-million account with us today."
Herbert stared into his drink, offering no reaction. Connie, seated beside him, couldn't hide her surprise—or her envy.
Five years with Herbert, and Giselle had walked away with millions?
Connie forced a sweet smile and slid a container across the table. "Herbert, I made this for you. I hope it's to your taste."
"Well, aren't you thoughtful? Just like the other women he once had," Lester drawled, his tone laced with amusement.
Giselle's cooking skills were excellent, which made Herbert extremely picky with his food. That was why he rarely ate out.
*****
Herbert eyed the container, his irritation rising for no discernible reason.
Still, seeing Connie's expectant look, he picked up a spoon and took a sip of her corn chowder.
But moments later, red blotches spread across his skin.
"What did you put in this?" Fenn asked, alarmed.
"Just salt, basil, pepper—" Connie stammered, her face draining of color.
"Pepper?" Fenn rolled his eyes. "Herbert's allergic to pepper. Didn't you know that?"
Connie's eyes filled with tears as she began to sniffle.
Lester, however, remained calm, his gaze steady. "Herbert, how did you not notice? It has pepper in it."
Herbert frowned, struggling to breathe. "I didn't... realize."
His mind raced. Yes, he was allergic to pepper, but it had been so long since he'd encountered it that he'd almost forgotten. Why had he forgotten?
"Do you have your allergy medication on you? Didn't Giselle always keep some for you?" Fenn pressed.
Oh, right. Giselle.
Without thinking, Herbert pulled out his phone and opened their chat. His fingers moved swiftly.
Herbert: What's the name of my allergy medicine?
The reply came quickly, but it wasn't what he'd expected.
Giselle: Go see a doctor if you're sick. You're a grown man, for goodness sake! I'm not a doctor or your medicine. Stop contacting me, will you? You're just annoying!
Herbert felt he must be too soft on Giselle, which was why she could still use his indulgence as a weapon. 'She's still angry,' he thought, 'but I can soothe her.'
Herbert: Come on, Gigi. Don't be mad. I need you!
He hit send, only to see a red exclamation mark appear instantly.
System: Your message was rejected.
"Fenn, what does it mean when a message gets rejected?"
Herbert asked, his grip on his phone tightening.
Fenn stared at him, wide-eyed. "It means you've been blocked."
Lester chuckled, shaking his head. "Ms. Gallardo really went for it. Herbert, after everything you've done for her, she blocked you? That's harsh."
Before Herbert could reply, his throat tightened further, and he collapsed onto the sofa.
"Herbert? Herbert! Call an ambulance!" Fenn yelled.
*****
At the City Hospital...
When Herbert regained consciousness, the room was dim.
His throat burned as he croaked out, "Gigi... water." Then, he reached out, expecting something familiar.
But then, a glass of icy water was pressed into his hand.
The temperature was all wrong. Giselle always prepared warm honey water for him when he woke up every morning, never ice water.
Herbert blinked his eyes open. Standing over him was Connie, her emerald-green eyes glistening with concern. For a moment, her gaze looked familiar, but the person standing in front of him was undeniably someone else.
The realization hit Herbert with startling clarity. His recent frustration, his inability to settle—everything traced back to Giselle.
Her coffee, her perfectly cooked meals, her thoughtful gestures, her very presence. None of it was there anymore, and without it, everything felt... wrong.
"Herbert, you're finally awake! Herbert? Herbert?" Connie's voice interrupted his thoughts as she waved a hand in front of his face.
"It's you..." His gaze drifted past her, scanning the rest of the room as though searching for someone.
"Mr. Garvey tried calling Giselle for you," Connie said softly. "She didn't pick up. I can't believe how heartless she's being..."
"Don't mention her again." He pushed himself upright, yanking the IV from his arm. Whatever turmoil had taken hold of him, he blamed it on the habits Giselle had ingrained in him over five years. The void she left behind wasn't about love—it was the inconvenience of having to adjust.
Connie reached out. "Herbert! Where are you going? The doctor said you need another day of observation—"
"I know my own body," Herbert snapped, pulling on his coat. "You should head home. Thanks for staying."
Without another word, Herbert strode out of the room, leaving Connie standing there, stunned.
*****
Back at his villa, Herbert stood in the center of the empty living room. But then, he found it hard to breathe again.
He suddenly remembered that when his allergies flared up, Giselle would run upstairs to fetch his medication.
Grinding his teeth, Herbert marched up the stairs and opened the nightstand drawer. Inside were two familiar bottles.
One was emergency contraception—because he hated using protection.
The other was the antihistamine Giselle had always kept stocked for him.
Herbert slumped against the side of the bed, shaking out two pills and swallowing them dry. Relief came slowly, but it came.
Eventually, he crawled onto the bed. The sheets felt cold and unwelcoming. His thoughts churned long into the night before exhaustion finally pulled him under.
It was the next afternoon when someone knocked on his door.
Later, Herbert went to meet his friend at the Redland Pub.
He sat by the bar and poured himself another glass of wine, swallowing it down in sharp gulps.
After a while, Lester came in, and Herbert slid a glass across the bar as his friend took a seat beside him.
But then, Herbert's eyes narrowed as he took in Lester's clothes. Something was... off.
"You seeing someone?" Herbert asked, gesturing to the beige cashmere sweater Lester was wearing.
Lester glanced down at himself and then chuckled.
"Well, it's true this was made by someone I adore. I accidentally found it, actually. But it's surprisingly comfortable and well-fit."
- Writer
