Boyfriend says I’m too much—Someone else’s turn Chapter 03

Boyfriend says I’m too much—Someone else’s turn Chapter 03

I thought… even now, after two years together, Asher probably never liked me that much.

I carried the cake home by myself.

Didn’t turn on the lights. Just sat on the floor by the door, covering my eyes with my hand.

After a while, I realized my palm felt damp.

“Don’t be upset just because he doesn’t care about you.”

“This isn’t exactly new, is it?”

“Don’t be sad. If you let it get to you every time, life would be unbearable.”

I kept talking myself through it, over and over, like some kind of self-imposed therapy—until my phone rang.

And still, the moment I saw his name on the screen, my heart skipped.

I picked up.

But it wasn’t his voice.

“Um… is this Roselyn?”

“I saw Asher outside the bakery earlier. There’s a department dinner tonight, so I invited him.”

“He’s had a bit too much to drink… Could you come pick him up?”

It was the girl who’d been with him earlier.

I agreed, already grabbing a coat on my way out.

And the whole time, I kept cursing myself. “Keep this up and you’ll end up looking like a clown in a circus.”

I rushed to the restaurant she sent me.

Asher was definitely drunk.

So much so that when I dragged him inside, he still hadn’t let go of my hand.

“We’re home, Asher.”

I reached up to untie his scarf.

His face was flushed. His ears too.

There was a thin haze in his eyes as he stared straight at me.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed me.

He lost his balance, and we both stumbled, falling onto the entryway floor.

Shoes scattered everywhere.

He braced himself with both hands on the floor, his lips trailing slowly from my ear downward—tinged with the faint scent of alcohol. Something like green grape.

“Asher… do you remember what you promised me yesterday?”

I pushed him away gently and straightened his collar.

He frowned, probably not remembering that.

Of course he didn’t. And even if I blamed him, it wouldn’t make a difference.

So I stood up unsteadily and pulled out the cake.

“You said you’d spend my birthday with me tonight.”

“But instead, you went to dinner with others. Why?”

Why can’t you care about me—even a little?

The words rolled in my throat again and again.

But I couldn’t say them.

He lowered his gaze to the cake, then opened it and set it on the table.

“Then let’s celebrate now.”

“It’s not the same.”

“How is it different?”

“It’s past midnight.”

“So what?”

He looked at me, impatience already creeping into his expression.

“…It’s nothing.”

I let out a quiet breath, walked over, cut the cake, and handed him a slice.

The overly sweet cream melted in my mouth.

I didn’t dare tell him how much I’d been looking forward to this birthday.

I thought he’d spend the whole night with me.

But even if I told him, he wouldn’t understand.

I lifted my fork and lightly tapped his slice against mine.

“Asher… do you think I’ll always love you?”