Bye-Bye Jerk, Hello Mr. Right



In the middle of the night, I started coughing deep, rough sound that wouldn't let up. Probably just a cold.

My respiratory system has always been weak, and whenever I catch something, it usually triggers coughing fits. Between the long day and the chilly mountain air, it was no surprise.

"Cough, cough..." I clutched my throat, the irritation making it feel like something was stuck there.

Even after drinking water, the coughing didn't stop. That's when I heard a knock at the door.

A knock in the dead of night can be unsettling, but being at the monastery, I felt oddly calm.

Before I could ask who it was, a woman's voice called softly from the other side. "I'm from

next door."

It had to be Mrs. Drago. She had a reputation for being deeply spiritual, and now she was standing outside my door.

I got up and opened it. "Good evening."

"I heard you coughing and thought you could use this," she said, holding out a small bottle of honey and herbal syrup. Her tone was gentle, her hair perfectly pinned back with a soft volume at the crown, and her smooth forehead gave her an air of grace and warmth.

It was hard to reconcile this kind, serene woman with her infamous husband and criminal

son.

"Thank you," I said, accepting the syrup. "I'm sorry for disturbing your rest."

My gratitude was genuine-her gesture felt sincere, and I hadn't expected this from someone tied to so much darkness.

Funny how life works. I'd been wondering how to approach her, and here she was, offering me exactly the chance I needed.

A blessing in disguise. Guess those old sayings have some truth to them after all.

"Did you catch a chill? It gets cold in the mountains, and young women like you often don't dress warmly enough," Mrs. Drago said, her eyes flicking to my bedding with concern.

I nodded. “Yeah, I didn't bring anything warm."

It wasn't just an admission-it was strategy. Showing vulnerability would make it easier to form a connection with her.

To someone her age, I probably seemed like a kid. And from what Sasha had told me, Mrs.

Drago had a compassionate nature. If she didn', Nina might not even exist.

"I'll bring you a blanket to keep warm," she offered, walking right into my plan.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, keeping my tone humble and grateful.

Her gaze shifted to the syrup in my hands. "Mix that with warm water-it'll help soothe your throat."

"Okay," I said quickly, moving to pour some water. Then I added, "Would you like some too?"

"I don't eat or drink anything after nine at night," she replied, sharing a bit of her disciplined routine.

I smiled. “That's impressive. I can't even skip my three meals a day. And sometimes, I need a late-night snack-like barbecue or something."

Her disapproving shake of the head was almost immediate. "You young people don't know how to take care of yourselves."

I stirred the syrup into the water and took a sip. The taste was sweet and tangy, instantly comforting.

It reminded me of Lindey back at the Johnston residence. Every time the seasons changed, she'd make me something just like this. No matter what, it was always there in the

morning.

But those days were gone. I'd left, and no one was there to look out for me like that

anymore.

"I'll go grab you a coat," Mrs. Drago said, turning to leave.

"No need, I'll come with you," I offered, setting my cup down and following her.

Her room had the same layout as mine, but it felt completely different. It was spotless, with a calm, almost serene energy.

She opened her wardrobe and pulled out a coat. "Here, take this. It'll keep you warm."