The days bled into a quiet, rhythmic pattern. Three times a day, without fail, Oom’s messages arrived on Bam’s phone, simple, unobtrusive reminders sent at sunrise, noon, and evening. She never pressed for answers, never pleaded, and never asked Bam when she was coming home. She simply offered care from a distance, trusting that her presence was felt even in the silence. And three times a day, a neatly packed thermal container arrived at the university faculty desk. Each meal was accompanied by a small, handwritten card tucked carefully beneath a ribbon. “May your lectures bring you joy today. Please remember to take a short walk and breathe.” “The weather is cooling down tonight. Keep yourself warm and let your hands rest.” “You inspire so many people just by being who you are. Don't forget to take care of yourself too.” Every time a container was delivered to her desk, Bam followed the same quiet routine. She would pause her work, untie the ribbon, and unfold the card. Her dark eyes would linger over Oom’s neat script for a long, unreadable moment. Then, turning her head slightly toward the glass, she would glance out the window at the campus courtyard below, where, more often than not, Oom had lingered for twenty minutes before quietly driving off to work at the Eisaya estate. Without a word, Bam would set the note aside, return to her work, and later, during her free moments between classes, eat every last bite of the meal. Afterward, the cards were placed inside the top drawer of her desk, forming an organized, hidden repository of Oom’s patient devotion. On Friday afternoon, the rain finally cleared, leaving behind a crisp, humid calm over the university grounds. Bam finished her final seminar of the week and returned to her private office. Her bandaged hands were healing steadily, though her palms still throbbed whenever she used them for extended periods. As she gathered her materials, a soft knock sounded at the door. Miu stepped inside, carrying a small folder. "All the department reports are finalized for the week, Bam," Miu said, setting the folder on the edge of the desk. She lingered for a moment, her gaze falling on the empty thermal tote sitting neatly near Bam's bag. "She was here again at noon," Miu remarked gently, keeping her tone light and unpressured. "The guard mentioned she brought a warm thermos of tea along with lunch today." Bam didn't offer an explanation, merely giving a slight nod as she closed her briefcase. "Thank you, Miu." Miu smiled softly, recognizing the boundary her best friend always maintained, yet noticing the subtle softness in Bam’s eyes that hadn't been there a week ago. "Have a good weekend, Bam. Get some real rest." Later that evening, Bam arrived at Bee’s apartment. The living room was quiet, Bee was out attending a dinner with colleagues, leaving the space in serene solitude. Bam changed into her usual dark loungewear and sat by the balcony doors, watching the city lights flicker across the skyline. Her phone sat on the small side table next to her. At precisely 7:00 PM, the screen lit up with a familiar quiet vibration. Oom: Good evening, Bam. I hope your week ended smoothly. Please enjoy a peaceful weekend and take care of your hands. Goodnight, Dr. Saralee. Bam reached out and picked up the device. She stared at the text for a long time, watching the cursor blink in the empty reply box. For days, she had held her boundary strictly, keeping her distance to protect her wounded heart and processing the deep breach of trust Oom had caused. Yet, sitting in the quiet apartment, surrounded by the echoes of Oom's consistent, unselfish efforts, the icy wall around Bam’s chest cracked just a fraction. She didn't offer promises or declare that everything was forgiven. Instead, her fingers slowly moved across the screen, typing out five simple words before hitting send: The tea was good. Goodnight. #oomeisaya #bamsaralee #oombam #austory - @bae9779s