"I'm sorry, but I can’t go today."
I said this to Game when he called, telling me that he was on his way to pick me up for coffee. As I spoke, I felt a deep sense of guilt. I glanced over at the person lying on my bed, fast asleep, and spoke with a heavy heart.
From the tone of my voice, I could tell that Game had sensed something.
[Something’s happened, hasn’t it?]
"Yeah."
He had an incredible sense for things. I answered briefly because I didn’t know how to explain. Last night, I had given him hope, but now it seemed like I couldn’t give him what he wanted anymore.
Or maybe I never could. Maybe I was just fooling myself, using him to forget someone else…
[It’s okay, I understand. It’s just coffee after all.]
“I’m really sorry.”
[Don’t sound so sad. We’re not even a couple yet, just starting out. I just feel a little disappointed that our beginning was so short.]
He didn’t need me to explain. It seemed like he understood that the coffee date wouldn’t happen—and that there wouldn’t be a next time either.
“I tried, but I don’t want to lie to myself.”
[You’re not the first or only person in the world to try to run from who you are. And it’s not your fault either.]
“If it’s not my fault, then whose is it?”
[No one’s. It’s just about feelings and preferences. Your heart has already made its choice. It’s just bad luck that I came into the picture. Even if I’d shown up earlier, there’s no guarantee I’d be chosen. You’re a good person for telling me now and not giving me false hope.]
“But why does it feel so significant, just missing a coffee?”
[It’s your tone that makes it sound that way… but it’s okay. We can still be friends, right?]
“Thank you, Game.”
We talked for a little while longer before hanging up. I sighed and stared at my phone for a long time. Honestly, if you know what you want and who you love, you shouldn’t try to distract yourself with someone new. The other person will just end up being hurt. And that’s exactly what happened, even though it hadn’t progressed far.
I turned back to the bed, grabbed the damp cloth I had prepared, and gently wiped down the beautiful woman who was still sleeping, unaware of anything because of the alcohol. She was as clueless now as she had been last night, but I wondered how things would be when she woke up.
Would she go back to being the cold, heartless Ann? Or would she be the sweet, vulnerable kitten she was yesterday? I couldn’t predict.
As I wiped her neck, trying to make her more comfortable, she slowly opened her eyes. She didn’t react dramatically, like in a soap opera, asking,
“Where am I?”
She just stared at the ceiling, turned to look at me, and rubbed her forehead as if she had a hangover.
"I managed to get myself here, didn’t I?"
“That’s right,” I replied with a smile, remembering how she had thrown a tantrum last night.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. I wondered if she remembered. Can people really forget everything when they’re drunk? There had to be some memory of it, even if just a fragment. The question was whether she would pretend to remember or claim to have forgotten.
YOU ARE READING
🌹OBSESSED 🌹 (Parfume the series)
RomanceIt is unclear whether it is her sweet and pretty face or the fragrance of the perfume that lingers around her that captivates Run, as if she were enchanted by the older sister. Meanwhile, the older sister approaches the younger one with cunning inte...
