I Supported My Fiancé for 10 Years After He Said, 'Let's Get Married When I Succeed,' but When He Finally Did, He Dumped Me. By the Way, I'm a Witch and Turning 30 Next Year!! - Episode 3
This pharmacy used to be a tavern, and it was known for its food. That’s why there’s a proper kitchen in the back.
I mostly use it as a workshop, so I only cook simple dishes here.
Still, I have basic seasonings. I sometimes prepare small meals when I get hungry.
The kitchen shelves are filled more with alchemy tools than with seasonings.
I carefully pick from the few seasonings available.
“Salt, pepper, and…”
There’s also some leftover bread. I bought it two days ago, so it’s hard as a rock now. But if I slice it thinly, I should be able to soak it in the stew and eat it.
I take a sharp knife and slice the bread smoothly without sawing.
“Ray, what are you doing?”
A young girl’s voice calls from behind me.
I turn around to see not a walking radish—but Merv Maple, the grass spirit.
She has a flower crown on her head and looks adorable. She was originally contracted with my second master, the Herbal Witch. But when my master retired, the contract was passed on to me.
“I’m finishing up the stew. I thought I’d eat here.”
“I see.”
Eating in a pharmacy at night might seem suspicious, but Merv Maple doesn’t question it.
“Ray, at the back door, there are a lot of packages.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
Rymer had said he moved my belongings to the back of the pharmacy.
“I brought just one of them.”
She hands me a bottle of wine. It’s the expensive wine I bought ten years ago when my engagement was finalized.
If I tried to buy this wine now, even ten gold coins wouldn’t be enough.
Rymer probably didn’t realize its value and assumed it was just cheap cooking wine. That’s why he returned it.
I had kept it carefully for years, but now it was meaningless to me.
“Alright, let’s pour this wine into the stew!”
Taking the bottle from Merv Maple, I grab some seasonings and cutlery and head back to the shop.
The dryad seems to have fallen asleep again, her nose puffing in and out as she snores.
“Sorry for the wait! Just a moment, I’m finishing it up.”
As I dramatically pull the cork from the wine bottle and pour it into the pot, Ie looks shocked.
“Um… Shopkeeper, isn’t that a really expensive wine?”
“It’s fine! I was saving it to celebrate my ex-fiancé’s promotion, but I don’t need it anymore.”
Normally, wine should be added before simmering the ingredients, but oh well. With a little magic, it should still turn out delicious. I only use about half the bottle.
I touch the pot and chant a spell.
“—Simmer gently, heat up! Heat Up!”
Using convenient cooking magic, I burn off the alcohol and warm the stew.
In an instant, the stew starts bubbling.
“You have a fire attribute, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
Actually, I have both fire and grass attributes. Having two elements is rare, and usually, they’re similar—like ice and snow or flowers and grass. But having two completely different attributes like mine is uncommon.
On top of that, I have two special gifts: “Sunlit Hands” and “Green Fingertips.” That’s why my first master, the Lust Witch, scouted me to become a witch.
For a few years, I worked under her, earning money. But after some twists and turns, I retired and became an Herbal Witch, running this pharmacy.
As I stir the stew with a ladle, Merv Maple brings over a chair.
This place was originally a tavern, so the counter was once a bar. The chair she brought was from the tavern days, so it should be just the right height.
“Here you go.”
“Wow, thank you, spirit-san.”
Ie immediately recognizes Merv Maple as a spirit. He must have some knowledge of magic. I remind myself not to say too much.
Since I don’t have stew bowls, I pour it into ceramic cups. I hand Ie one with a wooden spoon.
“Here, enjoy.”
“Thank you, I’ll dig in.”
When he scoops the stew, a tender piece of meat emerges.
I had bought better meat than usual, expecting Rymer to announce his promotion.
Ie takes a bite and suddenly stiffens.
“This is delicious!”
He stands up and exclaims.
“I’ve never had such a delicious stew before!”
“Oh… really? I’m glad. There’s plenty, so eat as much as you like.”
“Thank you.”
Hearing his gratitude, I suddenly realize—Rymer never once told me my cooking was delicious.
He was easy to read. If he didn’t like the food, he’d say, “I’ll eat out.” If he did like it, he’d just eat in silence.
But he always had second helpings of stew, so I assumed it was his favorite.
“The meat is so tender, it melts on my tongue… And the stew itself is rich and full of flavor. It’s truly incredible.”
“So it’s really that good?”
I pour myself a cup and take a sip.
“Wow! It really is delicious.”
It must be thanks to the expensive wine I poured in.
“This wine definitely made a difference.”
“That’s part of it, but I think it’s also because you put a lot of love into it.”
Hearing that, I realize it might be true.
I made this stew with care, thinking of Rymer.
But that love vanished in an instant.
It’s strange how something I held onto for ten years disappeared so quickly.
Yet, something still smolders inside me, refusing to fade.
If I don’t talk about it, I won’t be able to sleep.
Gathering my courage, I ask Ie:
“Ie, will you really listen to my story?”
“Yes, of course.”
“It’s going to be a long one.”
“I don’t mind.”
Just then, Merv Maple brings over wine glasses.
With elegant movements, like a sommelier, she pours the wine.
This is the kind of story I can’t tell without drinking.
I take a deep sip.
Ie does the same.
“Shopkeeper, I’m weak to alcohol. By morning, I’ll probably forget everything.”
“Ie… thank you.”
He’s telling me to share everything, knowing he won’t remember.
Grateful for his kindness, I begin my story—starting from when I first met Rymer.