At first, I thought Alastair was just messing with me.
But a week had passed, and he had settled in as if this were his home. He seemed more at ease than I was. I watched him, at ease as always, preparing breakfast in the kitchen, and I shook my head in disbelief.
This couldn't go on. I had to send him back before my parents found out. I couldn't stand having such a presence in my house.
After work, I dragged my best friend, Frida, to a bar and, as usual, vented about Alastair. "He used to just show up, like a meddling supervisor, but now he's practically moving in. He makes breakfast every morning. If I don't eat it, he threatens to call my parents. He waits for me every night, no matter how late I get home. He's messed up his biological clock just to be here. He even tidies up my stuff and washes my clothes..."
Frida paused, her expression impossible to read. "Is this really complaining, or are you flirting and showing off?"
"Pff!"
I sprayed my drink two meters across the table.
"You think I'd flirt with Alastair and then brag about him to others?"
As my friend since middle school, Frida had witnessed the entire history of hatred between Alastair and me. After a moment of deep thought, she wisely changed her tone. "You're definitely just complaining."
I patted her head with a proud smile. "That's right."
"Something's off about all this," Frida said seriously, her eyes narrowing. "Someone like him, nearing thirty and still single, probably has some underlying issues."
I caught on immediately. "You mean, he's impotent? And to take revenge on me, he's decided to bind me to him so I'll never know the happiness of being with another woman and will suffer the rest of my life?"
Frida blinked. "…"
It wasn't that extreme, I suppose. But no matter what, Alastair probably had some unresolved issues.
I needed to be careful.
After talking with Frida for half the night, we hadn't reached any substantial conclusions. We'd opened a few bottles of wine, but nothing truly useful was discussed.
As I stepped outside, ready to call a driver, a man in a white shirt approached me. He bowed slightly, smiling in a respectful manner. "Paisley."
It was the man I had seen in the bar earlier, the one Frida had bought drinks for.
I gave him a short nod and looked away.
But he didn't leave. Instead, he smiled and asked, "Paisley, are you headed home? I can drive you." I squinted at him, then looked back at him. He met my gaze steadily, his handsome face breaking into a gentle smile. There was something about him that caught my attention.
I smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Someone's waiting for me at home!"
"Paisley," he stepped a little closer, his cologne mixing with the fresh scent of the outdoors, "you're joking, right? Everyone in the circle knows that Kade went to Z City a long time ago."
Kade was my ex-boyfriend.
I hadn't blocked anyone from my social media posts, and everyone knew exactly who I was referring to. But, coincidentally, Kade had taken the earliest flight to Z City the very next day and had yet to return.
From the outside, there were only two possibilities: either Kade didn't want to continue the relationship and purposely distanced himself, or I had offended him and pushed him away.
No matter which one, the truth remained the same. Kade and I were completely done.
"What's wrong? Do you think I can't live without Kade?"
I asked lazily, almost mocking him.
He froze for a moment, quickly explaining, "I didn't mean it that way, it's just..."
"Forget it."
I casually threw the car keys at him, "Take me home!"
To be fair, this young handsome guy was my type.
Unfortunately, there was already a certain Alastair at home, so I feared I couldn't take this new connection too seriously. Still, I couldn't help but hold onto a tiny bit of hope.
Like maybe Alastair would finally come to his senses and move out, or perhaps he'd be too caught up in his work to come home. That small hope vanished as soon as I opened the door and saw Alastair, standing there like an NPC in a fixed refresh point.
"Paisley."
Alastair's already furrowed brows deepened when he saw the man behind me, "Who is he?"
The man who had brought me home probably hadn't expected there to be another person at my house.
Facing Alastair's question, he didn't shrink back at all. Instead, he tilted his head at me, "Paisley, this guy here... looks like he's got an even worse temper than before."
Alastair's face turned ashen with anger, his fist cracking with tension.
"Alright."
I took a wad of cash from my bag and stuffed it into the handsome guy's pocket, "You can go now."
"Okay."
He obediently handed me a business card, "Next time you want to find me, I'm always available."
"Paisley."
Alastair's cold eyes stayed on him as he walked out the door, then turned to me and said, "Are you going to explain this?"
"Explain what?"
I replied nonchalantly.
He kept his anger in check, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't forget, you have a boyfriend now." A boyfriend?
"What is this supposed to mean?" I was surprised by how seriously Alastair was taking the boyfriend role I'd set up in the game.
I couldn't help but feel absurd, "Alastair, don't be stupid. We're not right for each other."
"Not right before, not right now, and never right."
"Then you and him are right for each other?!"
Alastair's eyes turned red. He gripped my shoulders tightly, speaking passionately. His grip was so strong that I felt like my bones might crack.
The combination of alcohol and pain made me feel miserable, and after days of suppressing it, I was reaching my breaking point. I forcefully shook off his hand and coldly said, "Alastair, you need to stop."
"If you really want to be my boyfriend, then listen closely."
"I am who I am. If you're with me, you have to deal with it. If you can't, then leave!"
The air went still for a moment.
His hand, rejected and now useless, hung by his sides. Alastair hung his head, his expression unreadable. He looked desolate, almost as if I had done something deeply unforgivable. My heart twisted in an inexplicable way, but quickly settled as I walked past him into my room.
