It was my mom's last wish, after all.
But every single time, Peter had a new excuse to shut me down.
"Babe, I'm caught up with work right now. I'll take you when I can."
"Something came up at home. Let's just go next year."
"I'm just too busy!"
Last year, I brought it up again.
But he didn't even bother with excuses anymore. He just flat-out refused, not even hiding his annoyance.
Honestly, I was so done with this endless waiting.
"If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up."
Before Peter could respond, I hit that red button and felt a wave of relief.
Later that night, I was in my study, totally focused on my laptop.
Then, out of nowhere, Peter chucked a piece of cloth at my face.
"Look, babe, can you clean up your mess? You're leaving your dirty clothes all over the place!"
Damn, the sharp embellishment hit me hard enough to scratch my face. It hurt like hell!
"I found that under the couch. Seriously, just get your stuff organized, alright? Don't let it happen again."
Looking down, I realized it was a revealing, low-cut nightgown. My voice came out cold.
"That's not mine."
Peter's expression shifted, and he seemed to realize something, his face uneasy.