"Why can't you be cool like Liz? Do you know how much she'd value these stuff you're wearing? Aren't still you satisfied?"
His voice boomed across the living room. At the mention of Liz, my hands on my thighs tightened involuntarily, a surge of sadness engulfing me.
It was the usual pattern.
Each disagreement invariably returned to that woman.
Clenching my dry lips, I managed a faint smile, "I'm the one who's not cool? I'm not the satisfied one?"
"Jack, am I to blame for Liz McKibben's misfortune? Is it my responsibility to ensure her life is plush?"
My voice grew louder, "Yet here you are, supposedly my boyfriend, who has never spontaneously treated me the way you did her with that necklace!"
"Go ask anyone! Who's being unreasonable, me or you? You've never cared about how I feel!"
After saying this, I stared at him intently, my sense of injustice growing.
I remembered the previous Valentine's Day.
We had meticulously planned to visit South Beach in Drekrand.
Excitedly, I had prepared everything the day before.
But then he abruptly informed me he couldn't make it.
It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over me. I asked him why, my heart sinking.