Chapter 85

I crossed the street. The bell above the café door jingled as I stepped in, and the warm scent of coffee wrapped around me. Delilah looked up, her eyes meeting mine—tired, slightly red from whatever had just gone down.

She exhaled, almost in relief but too stubborn to show it.

Without saying a word, I took my lighter from my pocket, flicked it open, and held the flame out. She hesitated for a moment, then leaned in. The cigarette caught, glowing softly between her lips.

"Thanks," she murmured, smoke slipping from her mouth.

I nodded, pocketing the lighter before sliding into the seat across from her. "You looked like you could use a spark."

She smirked faintly at that, shaking her head. "My god. Please leave."

"Fine, fine. No more bad jokes."

A waiter drifted over, young kid, apron too big for him, dark circles under his eyes. "What can I get for you two?" he asked.

"Just a glass of water," Delilah said, voice low.

"Nothing for me," I added.

He nodded and walked off, leaving us alone again in the warm hum of the café. Outside, the streetlights were blinking on, one by one.

"Was a heated meeting, huh?" I said, trying for something light.

She took a slow drag from her cigarette, eyes fixed on the flame tip. "It... was." Then she exhaled, a long stream of smoke curling toward the ceiling. "Sorry."

"For what? You had a heated meeting?"

"For you having to see all that," she said quietly. "I shouldn’t have... slammed the door like that."

I leaned back in my seat. "You don’t have to apologize for being human, Ms. Komb."

She didn’t answer. Just tapped her ash into the tray, jaw tight.

"Wanna tell me what’s happening?" I asked after a moment.

"No," she said flatly, shaking her head. "It’s nothing. Just work."

"Work." I gave a small laugh. "That ’just work’ excuse never really works, does it?"

Her lips curved—barely. "Guess not."

I stared at her for a beat, then said, "You know, you used to give me the same look whenever I said I was ’fine.’ Remember?"

She tilted her head, frowning slightly.

"Back in uni," I said, smiling at the memory. "When my rent was overdue and I was too damn proud to tell anyone. I thought I’d figure it out somehow. I mean, I did figure it out, but it left me with zero. Not even a single cent to my name. You and Ivy showed up at my apartment out of nowhere with takeout and a new set of sheets. Said something about ’boys not knowing how to take care of themselves.’"

Delilah’s face softened. "You were so stubborn back then."

"I still am," I admitted. "But that day... you didn’t ask, you just acted. And you made it easier to breathe. So, I’m just trying to return the favor."

The waiter came back, setting down her glass of water. She thanked him quietly, stirring the straw even though there was nothing in it.

"It’s just... complicated," she finally said, voice small. "Ever since David and I ended things, everyone at work treats me like I’m carrying poison. They think I only got the position because of him. And now that he’s gone..." She gave a bitter laugh. "They’d probably celebrate if I quit tomorrow."

I stayed quiet, letting her talk.

"I’m trying so hard to keep it together," she continued, rubbing her temples. "Bills. Ivy. The burned house. The job. Every damn day it’s something. And the worst part? I can’t even be angry without feeling guilty about it."

Her eyes shone slightly, though no tears fell.

I leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Delilah. You don’t have to carry all of it alone. You helped me when I was too proud to admit I needed help. Don’t make the same mistake."

She gave me a long look. "You make it sound easy."

"It isn’t," I said. "But pretending you’re fine doesn’t fix anything either."

The silence stretched, heavy but not cold. Her cigarette burned down to the filter. She set it in the tray, sighing.

"You know what’s sad?" she murmured. "I keep telling myself I’m stronger than this. But every night I go home and sit there wondering what the hell I’m even doing anymore."

I wanted to reach across the table, take her hand, but I didn’t. Not yet.

"Then maybe," I said quietly, "you just need someone to remind you that you still matter. That you’re not just some name on a payroll sheet or David’s ex. You’re... you. The woman who dragged a dumb college kid back from a breakdown with cheap noodles and sarcasm."

That made her laugh—small, but real.

"God, you still talk too much," she said, wiping under her eyes.

"Maybe. But you’re listening, so it works."

Her smile lingered this time. "You’ve changed, Evan. You used to run from conversations like this."

"I’m still running," I said. "Just... slower now."

Delilah looked at her half-finished glass of water, then back at me. Her shoulders eased a little, like some invisible weight had finally shifted.

"Thanks," she said softly. "For checking up on me."

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EVENT

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Delilah’s Interest +8

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"Anytime," I replied. "You know where to find me."

"I... actually don’t." She tilted her head. "Where do you live?"

"We’re close," I told her. "Themper Street. Near that new shopping mall they opened—you know it?"

"Ohh, yeah. I know that place."

"Yup. Karambula Apartments. Third floor."

"Karambula..." she murmured, brow furrowing. "I swear I’ve heard that name before."

"You probably heard about Karim."

"Oh, right—him." Her voice dipped. "I heard someone kidnapped a man and tortured him."

"Karim and I actually fought before that happened. He kinda beat me to a pulp."

Her eyes shot wide. "What? Are you serious? Are you okay? Why would he—"

"That’s a story for later." I pushed myself up from the chair, forcing a faint smile. "If you want to hear it, drop by my place."

She huffed a soft laugh. "You’re like a walking ad. At least tell me you’re fine."

"I am. Promise."

Delilah exhaled, glancing at the ashtray, then back up at me. "I’ll bring cheap noodles too. For old time’s sake."

I grinned. "Now that’s a deal."

Stepping outside, the cold air bit at my face. I drew in a breath, my lungs burning with the chill. Time was short—I still had Ivy’s computer to clean, then the summer house to check out. A real summer house. I’d never had one before. Tom’s mother’s place looked straight out of a horror movie—too clean, too big, too quiet.

As I waited for the light to change, my phone buzzed. Tessa’s name lit the screen.

"Hey," I answered.

"Evan! Kim—Jasmine’s downstairs neighbor—invited us to her summer house."

"Oh, nice." I started crossing as the light turned green. "Tessa, that place is massive."

"So I heard." Her tone turned playful. "Kim told me you’re in the city. Can you pick us up?"

"Sure. Gas is free," I quipped.

"Perfect. We’re at Jasmine’s."

"Alright. We’ll hit the mall after—need to grab some stuff. She gave me a list."

"Fine by me," she said. "But I’m not bringing my wallet. You’re paying, magic boy."

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500 Dollars Bought!

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"Yeah," I muttered, watching the faint UI flicker beside me. "It’ll be on me."

Didn’t even flinch anymore when that UI crap showed up. Guess I was getting used to it. Just a thought and I could buy something. Still—where the hell was the money?

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Credit Card: Evan Marlowe

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Balance: $590

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"Shit," I breathed. "It knows my credit card?"

Seeing the number stung more than I wanted to admit. The tip from Anotta? Gone. Rent, groceries, hospital bills—all gone. Oh, those hospital bills... damn you, Karim.

All I could do now was hope the system threw better quests soon. I needed the credits. Bad.

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SHOP

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• Aphrodisiac Drink (10c)

• Silk Lingerie Set (25c)

• Sensual Massage Oil (15c)

• Mystery Pleasure Toy (30c)

• Flirt Potion (20c)

• Hypnotic Perfume (40c)

• Time Stop (90c)

• 500 Dollars (50c)

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Credits: 220c

Select item to purchase.

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I crossed the street and slipped back into the apartment building. The stairwell smelled faintly of detergent and old paint. As I started climbing, boredom hit—and with it, the UI flickered to life in front of my face.

"Huh," I muttered. "What in the shit is this now?"

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Quest Available

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Title: Stick

Task: Buy a dildo

for the girls.

Reward: +50 EXP

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Accept Quest? [Yes] [No]

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I hit yes without thinking. A dildo? Seriously? Not the kind of fetch quest I was expecting. But hey—fifty EXP was fifty EXP. Still, where the hell do you even buy one? The mall? A back alley? Guess I’d have to ask Tessa or Jasmine... great.

By the time I hit the last step, I’d already decided to ignore the mental image of myself standing in a checkout line holding a rubber dick.

I knocked on Delilah’s door. Ivy answered, holding it open.

"How’d it go?" she asked.

"She’s better," I told her, stepping in. "And yeah—she’s smoking."

"Told you." Ivy sighed. "How was she? Mood-wise, I mean."

"I made her laugh," I said, trying not to sound too proud. "Still got that old Marlowe charm, you know?"

"Marlowe charm my ass." She snorted, though the corner of her mouth twitched. "But... good to hear she’s doing better."

"Yup."

"Now get your ass back in the bedroom," she said, waving me off. "You still need to fix our computer. We don’t pay you to stand around."

"Wait—I’m getting paid?"

"Oh, right. You don’t."

"Would you... wanna start paying me for my time?"

"Nope."

"Aw."

I walked back into the bedroom. Even though Delilah’s panties were gone, my brain—traitorous as ever—painted the image right back onto the chair. For half a second, it almost felt real.

I shook it off and crouched beside the PC. The screwdriver spun in my hand, the metal tip catching the dim light as I started unscrewing the panel.

"Alright," I muttered. "Let’s get to work."

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