Self

Chapter 4

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Yale found the medication box right where Mary said it would be, in the closet drawer, with five boxes of his usual stomach meds.

The pain subsided after he took the medication, and his nerves finally

started to unwind.

As he pushed the drawer shut, his hand stopped short.

All the jewelry and designer bags were still there, but Yara’s IDs, passport, and certificates were missing.

One suitcase was definitely short in the corner where the luggage

was stacked.

Yale stood frozen, a sudden wave of anger surging to his head.

“Great… just great… great…”

He repeated that three times, nodding with each word.

He just knew he could not let women get too comfortable.

The more he did, the worse they got.

The moment Yale heard the front door swing open, he bolted downstairs. “What? You?”

Charlotte, slipping off her shoes, raised an eyebrow. “Who else were you expecting?”

Yale slumped onto the couch, clearly not thrilled. “Why are you here? Something up?”

“Heard you were having stomach trouble again. Mom sent me to check on my favorite brother,” Charlotte said a little sarcastically, heading for the kitchen. “Haven’t had lunch yet, so I figured I’d crash here and grab a bite.”

She had to admit, one of the perks of visiting was Yara’s cooking–it

was out of the world.

Then, just a half–minute later, Charlotte called out, “Hey! Why’s the kitchen looking like a ghost town? Where’s Yara? She’s not home? That’s odd!”

Normally, Yara would have a feast ready by then, and Charlotte. sometimes got lucky and scored a free meal.

Yara? It was always about Yara. Yale massaged his temples, trying to ignore his sister.

Charlotte emerged from the kitchen, her face etched with

disappointment. “Is she sick or something? She looked pretty pale at the hospital yesterday…”

“She was at the hospital?” Yale perked up, his concern palpable.

“Yeah, I bumped into her at West Capitolium Hospital while visiting Professor Olson. Oh, and guess what? Olson has allowed me to enter a fast–track program to a Ph.D.!”

Yale’s brow creased with worry. “Why was she at the hospital?”

“How should I know? You know her better.”

Yale fell silent, lost in thought.

“Maybe Yara isn’t sick at all? Could she be visiting someone? But I’ve never heard of her having any friends. Seems like her whole world is just you, and, well, you…”

“Done talking?”

Charlotte pursed her lips.

“Spit it out and get going. I’m still half asleep here.” Yale stood up, stretching.

“Really? You’re in that much of a hurry to get rid of me? Okay, okay, I’m leaving.” Charlotte grumbled as she slipped on her shoes. “Just so you know, I didn’t come over for nothing today.”

Yale could not care less, already heading upstairs.

“Remember, tomorrow at 2 PM, West Coast Restaurant. Mom’s set you up on another blind date. Don’t be late!”

“Always with the nagging…” he muttered.

Charlotte stuck her tongue out at his retreating figure before storming off.

She was no stranger to those matchmaking attempts. Hanging out with Yara did not stop her family from trying to pair her brother with someone supposedly more appropriate.

Yale had been dragged to plenty of those meet–ups over the years, mainly to keep their mom off his back.

Once Charlotte was gone, Yale retreated to his study to tackle some work. He had started his own company years ago, desperate to escape under his family’s thumb.

Those first three years were brutal, and he had been too stubborn to take any handouts from his family, with only Yara by his side.

He had finally made it, built something worth talking about, and ditched the whole spoiled–rich–kid label.

His family had even started warming up to him, going from totally against his thing with Yara to a sort of see–no–evil stance.

When his work was done, he noticed the sunset had given way to evening, the city lights flickering to life.

Yale’s stomach growled. He grabbed his phone and dialed his girlfriend’s number. “Hey, what’s up?”

The phone chimed, and the girl’s hushed voice came, “Hey, sorry babe, I’m in class. I’ll find you after, okay?”

Yale cringed at the word babe. “Yeah, you do your thing.”

He ended the call and tossed his phone aside.

His phone buzzed again a minute later, but Yale ignored it, lost in his

work.

Not until his stomach started growling did he realize it was time to

take a break.

He had plans to grab dinner with Zachary and the crew, so he threw on some fresh clothes and was about to leave.

The girl sitting by the door jumped at the sound, turning with a bright and bashful smile.

“Xandra?”

“Oops, sorry, I knocked, but you must’ve missed it. So I just waited here.” She eyed the suit jacket on his arm. “Heading out?”

Yale raised an eyebrow and asked, “How’d you find me?”

Xandra looked a bit sheepish. “I asked one of your friends…”

“Zachary?”

“Nope, it was Michael.”

“Come on in,” Yale said.

Her smile returned as she bounced inside, taking in the place while playfully pouting. “You didn’t pick up my calls after hanging up. I was worried for ages…”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“I ditched. Boyfriends trump class, don’t they?”

Yara would never do that.

When he was dating her, she was a busy freshman who never missed a class for him.

Only in her senior year, with a lighter schedule, she started carving out time for him.

“Hey, you haven’t eaten yet, right? I could-”

“Can you make mushroom soup?” Yale blurted out unexpectedly.

“Mushroom soup?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know how, but I’m up for learning.”

Yale had gently turned down Xandra’s not–so–subtle hint to crash at his place. After finishing the takeout she had brought over, he drove her back to the school before heading out to find Zachary.

He stopped at a red light, checked his phone, and a thought crossed his mind about Charlotte mentioning she had seen Yara at the hospital earlier.

They might’ve called it quits, but the old flame still flickered after all those years. Even just as friends, he felt he should check in on her.

He tapped open the Messenger app.

[Sick?]

[You’re not friends on Facebook.]