The Man Who Ruined My 22nd, the Customer Who Wanted a Steamed Bun Chapter 05

The Man Who Ruined My 22nd, the Customer Who Wanted a Steamed Bun Chapter 05

I smiled and nodded.

“Yes. I met a wonderful man, so I married him.”

I pinched one of Maisie’s pigtails. “Maisie, where’s Daddy?”

Maisie blinked, then copied me by pinching the ends of my hair.

“Daddy said your birthday is coming up, so he secretly went to pick out a present for you. He told me to come back and find you first, and he said I couldn’t tell you.”

Only after she finished did Maisie realize she had given away the secret.

Her eyes widened, and she clapped both hands over her mouth.

I could not help laughing.

“Don’t worry. Mommy didn’t hear a thing.”

I lifted my head and saw Elliot’s face shift from pale to dark and back again.

He looked awful.

Oh.

My birthday.

Six years ago, on my birthday, the gift he had given me was another woman’s ultrasound report.

He lowered his head. His voice sounded weak.

“Elena, your birthday is coming up. I… I can get you a gift.”

“No need. Other than my husband’s gift, I don’t accept presents from other men.”

I looked at him openly.

“You and I are not the same.”

Maisie tugged at my apron, her eyes darting around with curiosity.

“Mommy, who is Mr. Mercer? Why don’t you want his present? If you don’t want it, can I have it?”

“I want ice cream!”

I frowned slightly, trying to figure out how to explain this to Maisie.

But Elliot took her hand first.

“Come on, Maisie. I’ll buy you ice cream.”

Then he looked up at me and said, “I should have brought something for the little girl in the first place. If you don’t even let me buy her a treat, that would really be rude.”

I sighed and silently allowed it.

“Go ahead, Maisie. Hold his hand tight and don’t run off.”

“And when you come back, you still have homework to do.”

Maisie nodded and bounced out with Elliot.

“Sir, I want strawberry!”

Elliot patted her head and bought her one.

Then his hand instinctively reached for a box of premium chocolate ice cream bars.

His brows tightened, as if even he had been startled by the movement.

After a pause, he still picked them up.

Maisie looked at the box and shook her head so hard her pigtails swung.

“Mr. Mercer, Mommy says that one tastes awful. She said she wouldn’t spend five dollars on that thing even if someone paid her. Don’t you think it tastes bad?”

Elliot froze.

“Your mom said she doesn’t like this?”

“Yeah. Mommy only likes this one.”

Maisie took out a small vanilla ice cream sandwich.

“Mommy says this one is good. It tastes sweet and milky, and it’s a great deal too.”

Elliot looked at the little white square in her hand, and an inexplicable bitterness rose in his chest.

He did not know whether I truly disliked that flavor, or whether I had simply been unwilling to spend the money.

Only then did he realize he had understood me so little.

When it was time to check out, the cashier scanned each item one by one.

After hesitating again and again, Elliot still took several boxes of those premium chocolate bars and placed them on the counter too.