Of course, every time he stood at the door looking at me, he never had any schemes. He only had a smile on his face, then walked over and gave me a romantic kiss.
But now, when he saw me, he paused for a moment. Then, with a tone filled with deep disgust, he said, “What are you doing in my house?”
I sat up from the sofa and replied, “Darren, this is also my house.”
He furrowed his brows, walking in step by step, his eyes scanning the apartment.
Everything in here was paired up, clearly showing signs of the life we had shared together.
Even the big wall in the living room was adorned with all the photos of our trips.
All the evidence of our love was displayed in front of him and I didn’t need to explain anything
“Move out,” he said.
I took a sharp breath, my voice trembling as I asked him, “What’s the reason?”
Darren’s lips twitched slightly, looking a bit pained.
I struggled to force a smile, “Darren, you’ve just forgotten. You do love me. Please, don’t make me hate you, okay?”
Darren seemed confused, as if he was deep in thought.
But my casual words weren’t enough to change the expression on his face.