Boyfriend Stood Me Up Seventeen Times And Said Next Time—I Quit Chapter 03

Boyfriend Stood Me Up Seventeen Times And Said Next Time—I Quit Chapter 03

I waited up for Julian all night, but he never came home.

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep on the couch in the study.

I dreamed of Julian when we were just seven years old.

He stood in front of me with a stick clutched in his hand, facing down a snarling stray dog. His hands shook with fear, yet he refused to step aside.

“Don’t be scared, Chloe. I’ll protect you.”

I saw us at eighteen next. Young and shy, he walked up to me with his face flushed bright red. He stumbled over his words as he asked me out.

“Will you be my girlfriend? I swear I’ll always put you first. No one else will ever come before you.”

I ducked my head, my cheeks burning hot.

“I believe you.”

At twenty-five, he got down on one knee and proposed.

At twenty-seven, we held our engagement party.

Now, three months later, I’d fallen asleep on the study couch waiting to say goodbye.

My phone buzzed and woke me partway through the night. It was a text from Julian.

[It’s too late to get you a ride home safely. I’m dropping Tiffany off at her place first. Don’t stay up waiting for me. Get some sleep.]

I typed out a reply.

[What about the cake? Did you forget that too?]

My finger hovered over the send button. In the end, I deleted every word.

I simply replied, [Okay.]

I rolled onto my side and tried to sleep again.

My arm stayed damp with tears the entire night.

I woke up the next morning in my bedroom, disoriented for a brief moment.

I walked out into the main living area. Julian was in the kitchen cooking breakfast, and a twelve-inch cake sat on the dining table.

“You’re awake?” He glanced over at me while he worked.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I had to carry you to bed. You’re heavier than I remember.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he spoke, acting like nothing had changed between us.

For a split second, I let myself get caught up in the old familiarity.

I stepped toward the table and reached for the cake, my voice soft.

“I must have dozed off accidentally. Did you get this cake last night? It’s not in the fridge…”

“Don’t touch it!”

Julian swatted my hand away sharply. The force left my palm stinging and red.

“Tiffany mentioned she wanted cake this morning, so I went out and bought this first thing.”

“There’s a carton of strawberry milk for you in the fridge. Help yourself.”

I opened the refrigerator door.

A carton of strawberry milk sat on the shelf.

When we were eighteen, Julian had accidentally given me an expired carton of strawberry milk.

I drank it and ended up with severe food poisoning, stuck in the hospital for three days.

Ever since then, I’d been terrified of strawberry milk.

Julian had been devastated back then. He’d held my hand, his eyes swollen from crying, and vowed he would never let me come near strawberry milk again.

Now, that promise was forgotten too.

I stared into the fridge for a long moment before closing the door.

Julian watched my reaction and frowned with obvious irritation.

“Aren’t you going to drink it? Tiffany recommended this brand.”

“I never drink strawberry milk.”

“Since when?”

“Since I was eighteen. Because of you.”

Julian’s brow creased deeper. Then his expression smoothed out like nothing mattered.

“I forgot.”

“I know you did.”

The room fell dead silent. The air felt thick and stagnant.