Page 140 of Blue Gold

I breathed in relief because at least, unlike Daniel, Vito believed me⁠—

“But I must insist that before you come back to work for me, you meet with someone.”

“Huh?” I frowned.

“I want you to see a friend of mine, Louise. She’s a therapist, specializing in eating disorders.”

I bit down on my tongue, fighting the urge to snap, because I hated this. Eating disorders? Anorexia? What the hell was he talking about? Those disturbing diseases, they only happened to girls. Women. They didn’t apply to men, and especially not to me.

“You seem upset,” Vito said.

“Of course I am. Because everyone keeps telling me I’m not okay, while I am perfectly fine,” I hissed, my voice tight.

In response, Vito gave me a sympathetic smile that I wanted to wipe off his face.

“Well, if everything is fine like you claim, then see the conversation with Louise as nothing but a friendly chat. Okay?”

It was anything but okay, and my anger didn’t subside even after I said goodbye to Vito. What was supposed to be a fun lunch had turned into a disaster. My rage continued to grow, and by the time I reached home, my body throbbed with it. Everything was Daniel’s fault. It was one thing to say those crazy things to me, but to tell them to Vito? My boss? Now, I’d probably lose my job because of him. But why? Why would he sabotage my career? It made no sense. But just as I reached our condo door, it hit me.

He’s jealous.

I quickly opened the door and stepped inside, slamming it behind me. Vibrating with anger, I tossed the keys on the floor and looked around. Daniel was still not here, which was good, because I wasn’t sure what I’d do if he were. Since we met, he’d always been possessive of me, getting jealous over the slightest attention I received. He probably couldn’t stomach my success and the fact that others were looking at me, and decided to take action.

You know he would never.

No, I didn’t know that.

He loves you.

He said he loved me, and yet I was still his secret, wasn’t I? Just like I was Jacques’s.

He’s nothing like Jacques.

“Fuck!” I shouted, tears blurring my vision. Why was it so difficult? Why did they keep saying I was sick—first Daniel and then Vito with his Maestro? I wasn’t like him, right? Placing my hands on my chest and abs, I took deep breaths. I wasn’t going to die, and Daniel wasn’t about to watch it, right?

Swallowing hard, I looked at the kitchen and, without thinking twice, dashed toward it. I burst open the fridge’s door, and the first thing that caught my eye was the plate with chocolate éclairs. I grabbed one and shoved the whole thing into my mouth, reaching for another before even swallowing.

I chomped on those damn éclairs, when my eyes moved on to the chouquettes. Grabbing a handful in each hand, I then brought them to my mouth and tried to shove as many as possible in. They were sweet, moist, and the cream spilled everywhere, mixing with my tears and snot. Yet, I didn’t stop there and instead reached for more when the tray fell down to the floor and everything spilled. Swallowing down the last bite, I got to my knees and began eating them straight from the floor, only to prove that nothing was wrong with me. When I raised my head to catch a breath, right before me was the Saint Honoré that had taken me hours to make. Sitting there in the fridge, almost like a prize, it glanced back at me, the caramelized choux mocking me so cruelly. I wiped my lips with my forearm, then reached forward and grabbed the cake with my bare hands. Parting my lips, I took a huge bite, the cake crumbling between my fingers, before I took another bite, and another, until I couldn’t breathe anymore. I was so damn angry that every part of me was on fire, and no matter what I tried to do, I couldn’t control it. I felt as if a ball of lava was set inside me, and without realizing it, I picked up more food from the floor and shoved it into my mouth, forcing myself to swallow.

It’s so many calories.

I flinched at the thought and looked down.

Chocolate, cream, éclairs, and cake, all that fat and sugar just… everywhere. My brain went spiraling. In a few seconds, I’d eaten more than I was allowed to eat in a month. Quickly getting up, I ran toward the sink, crouched over, and stuck two fingers down my throat, shoving them back until I gagged, and everything came out. The reek of vomit made me retch, only causing me to hurl harder until I felt like I was about to die.

By the time I was done puking, my soul and body were worn-out. My knees buckled, and so I turned around and slumped down on my ass, catching my breath as I closed my eyes. But no matter how deeply I tried to breathe, it wasn’t enough, and my lungs felt like they would burst any second now. But after a few minutes had passed, the pain subsided, and I was able to catch my breath.

Ready to stand up and go back to my evening, I opened my eyes but froze after seeing the mess I’d caused. With pure horror, I stared at the open fridge and the food spilled around it. The floor looked like farm animals had feasted there, but it was no animal—just me.

Fear clenched at my throat, choking me as a wave of pure shock swept over my body.

They were right.

I swallowed hard.

Daniel and Vito… they were right.

Tears once again began to flow down my cheeks.