I couldn't manage to leave during lunch to meet dad because of Isaac. Goddamn, that boy. I wanted to spend every second of my life, share every part of my life with him and when I wasn't doing that, I thought of him all the time. I was amazed at how my mind was always screaming Isaac this . . . Isaac that . . .

When I could finally think about me for a change, I sorely realised how inadequate I was in comparison to him.

I felt the hot air inside the little restaurant of Sam's drowning my insecurities momentarily, yet making me feel heavy and not-so-good.

Sam's scar-faced dad smiled kindly at me despite his visible exhaustion and the crowd. However, his smile didn't reach his sober voice, "Noodles for your father and you?"

"Yes please, thank you." I returned his smile and quickly slid on an empty, steel stool by the counter. Sam's dad was already occupied with the broth boiling in two big pots and the workers chopping meat and vegetables. Up close, I could strongly smell the delicious aroma of the food instead of the sweat of the people all around me.

I could smell something strange when a person clumsily slumped beside me- oh yeah, the best companion of people around here, alcohol. 

He grabbed the laminated menu and thoughtlessly pointed at one dish, grinning stupidly at Sam's dad's worker. "This one, quick please!" Then his red-rimmed, shiny eyes connected to me, making me still. "What are you looking at, girlie?"

"Nothing," I responded immediately, then propped my elbow on the counter. "Isn't it early to get wasted like that?"

It was none of my business, but I could figure out that this person was quite a character who could amuse my sorrowful, self-pitying mind.

"Finally someone who gives a shit about me!" he exclaimed, mockingly joining his hands in a praying position. "Nobody gives a shit about divorced people. Twice. Twice divorced. I didn't even have to fight for custody of my kid, that little bastard chose his mother from the day he was born."

I was right, he was quite a character.

I nodded merely to encourage him to entertain me more, his enormous, sweating forehead and the bags under his eyes further gave a comical touch to all his miseries. But, he didn't continue. So I spoke, "Isn't it liberating when no one gives a shit?"

He burst out laughing in this silly, school-girl voice that I had to shush him because all eyes turned towards us.

I smiled abashedly at the weird noise he produced and defended myself, "As in, having no expectations! Like I got into a relationship recently and I'm kinda scared that he'll soon find out that I'm not special. He's everything you know, kind, smart, funny, handsome . . . The person who would perfectly stand for the word beautiful." I felt my cheeks warm, but I convinced myself it wasn't from gushing about my boyfriend but from the stifling room. "On the other hand, I have nothing to offer. Just a pretty face---"

"With that hair, I doubt that," he interrupted, snidely gesturing at my blue-dyed hair. "What were you even thinking? It's like some sea monster shat over your head."

"Hey! You're the one with the worst choices here, twice-divorced!" I argued loudly and feeling all eyes on me again, I lowered my voice, "Your choices can't match a bad hairstyle." Averting my eyes to the ground, embarrassed at my vehement outburst, I added quietly, "But yeah, you get the point. I feel like an imposter."

"Insecurities look cute only on people whose insecurities aren't true," he said candidly, scratching the bare part of his hairy chest where his untidy shirt was unbuttoned. "If you're insecure about the things that are true about you and you show them to everyone, prepare to get divorced again and again."

"But, you don't understand," I lied blatantly, knowing fully well that this intoxicated stranger truly got me. "I feel like he deserves way better. A chick who isn't moody and has better hair."

He snapped his fingers in agreement, the corners of his mouth shamelessly stretching. "Okay. Have you heard this story?"

"What story?"

"Nah, you haven't heard it. I just made it up." He waved his hand dismissively, adopting a pensive expression. "Imagine a man was thrown in a corridor with many rooms. Each room has a person in it with a variety of qualities, annoying or tolerable, big booty or no booty and so on. He is told that one of the room has his soulmate and he can have her, the only catch being that once he has rejected a person, he can't go back to that same person again. Once a door closes, it's forever closed. Do you think he finds the soulmate?"

"I don't know . . . " I shrugged casually, my mind already rapidly working on the numerous possibilities.

"The man depending on his vulnerabilities either settles for the first girl he sees or the last. Maybe the middle one. Or none at all."

I disapprovingly clicked my tongue. "Well, that's anti-climatic."

He cruelly flicked my forehead and I scowled. "There's no soulmate. You make one out of each other and for that, you need to be clever. Clever enough to not let him go knocking to the next door."

"This all sounds so calculating. You have butchered all romantic notions. Protect Disney from your corrupted mind," I jested and I bet my eyes were gleaming with adoration and reverence.

He apathetically raised his shoulders. "Well, I'm serving you the truth." His large bowl of inviting noodles was placed against the counter with that signature, clattering noise. A sudden look of contentment passed on his miserable face as he sniffed exaggeratedly. "A good person isn't the one who doesn't know how to be conniving, but a person who knows and chooses not to be."

"You're full of contradictions," I pointed out and his grin broadened, not at me, but at the sumptuous noodles.

"That's why I'm divorced," he replied passively, then slurped the rich soup, completely ignoring my existence. "Heck yeah, who is the chef here? I'm ready to get married to him! Third time, baby! Third time!"

Fighting the bizarre smile that dared to grace my lips, I took my takeaway and left for home.

* * *

A/N

Anyone who recalls this drunk stranger . . . ? He's from Part One, Chapter Fifteen!