I just smiled and said, "Stevie, we've been together for so many years and truly loved each other. There's no need for things to turn out like this."
Steve froze at my words.
He remembered that nickname.
I used to address him like that when we were deeply in love.
Steve and I were high school classmates.
Before we chose our respective academic tracks, we were in the same class.
The affection we had for each other during our school days was simple and vague.
I had feelings for him but didn't dare to show them.
He was good-looking and excelled academically. On the basketball court, his effortless jumps and shots always earned him cheers and applause.
For the entire first year of high school, I watched him silently.
In the first semester of the second year, we became desk mates. But not long after, we had to choose our academic paths.
I excelled in liberal arts, so I naturally chose that track, while he, being a top student in science, was bound for the science class.
This made me even more reluctant to express my feelings.
On the day we separated, a girl from the science class approached him boldly and said, "Steve, you're finally going to be with me."