Suddenly, I felt a gentle weight on my shoulder; Verity was leaning against me, her familiar and unsettling presence.
“Tyron, why haven’t you replied to my messages?” she asked, her tone laced with confusion.
I didn’t turn to face her, but instead, I lit up my phone to check the unread message: [What kind of games do you guys usually like to play?]
Three years ago, I watched my buddy proudly flaunt the new game console his girlfriend had gifted him. At that moment, I asked Verity for a newly released game skin, hoping to share that excitement.
In the past, Verity had shot me a disdainful look and said, “Tyron, are you serious? You’re in your thirties, yet still obsessed with games and skins. Isn’t that a bit pathetic?”
Verity raised an eyebrow in surprise and exclaimed, “Aren’t you always saying you wanted to play this?”
I shrugged and replied casually, “I don’t play games anymore.”
After a brief silence, she snapped, “Fine then. I’m heading to the bathroom, and after that, we’ll go home together.”