Less than two minutes after I made the comment, my boyfriend, Marcell Kendrick, called me angrily.
As soon as the call was connected, he started to accuse me, “What do you mean by those vague comments? How am I supposed to live my life if a mutual friend sees you?
“I just helped her with a small favor. Why are you being so uptight? Are you seriously this petty?”
I laughed, a sharp edge to my tone. “Oh, I already wished you a happy marriage and you still call me petty? So, what’s next? Do you need me to stand guard at the door before you head into the bridal chamber?”
Marcell furiously asked, “What nonsense are you talking about? I have explained it to you clearly, but you are still so stubborn. Do you really want to break up?”
Listening to his angry words without a trace of warmth, I felt like my eight years of affection had been wasted.
I had always considered him as my future husband.
I fully support him in whatever he did, whether it was starting a business or something else. I wished I could use myself as a raft to help him reach greater heights.
But Marcell took all that for granted. Whenever something went wrong, he would make a fuss and break up with me.