My relationship with Tate gradually became more harmonious. After his intelligence diminished, he shed his former coldness and started revolving around me all day long. No matter what I wore, he would say it looked good, and he would believe even the most ridiculous lies I told him without question.
I even started looking forward to coming home.
Girl, you're always too soft-hearted.
Until I ran into Siena Rojas in the neighborhood.
She was fully made up, dressed in a loose, casual hoodie and shorts, the kind of pretty and approachable, yet stylish girl-next-door type.
She didn't notice me and quickly walked out of the neighborhood.
I frowned slightly, a strange feeling welling up inside me.
She was one of the reasons Tate and I broke up.
When I got home, Tate was eagerly waiting for me. As soon as I walked in, he stood up and handed me my slippers.
I couldn't help but pat his head.
He obediently lowered his head to make it easier for me to touch.
I paused for a moment, then mischievously ruffled his hair with more force.
Tate swatted my hand away, looking at me with a hint of complaint.
I said cheerfully, "I'll take you to get a haircut tomorrow."
He hadn't been out for more than half a month. His eyes lit up at my words, and he placed my hand back on his head, letting me ruffle his hair as much as I wanted.
He made me laugh.
The next day before heading out, I took the time to dress him up, even shaving his beard clean.
Tate really is a natural clothes hanger, even a simple T-shirt and jeans look great on him. With the earrings and silver necklace I picked out, he looked like a total cool guy at first glance.
I was more than happy to go out with him.
It was the weekend, and the streets were crowded with people. Tate held my hand tightly the entire time.
In the past, when we went out on dates, Tate would quietly follow behind me, as if nothing could pique his interest. Going shopping or watching a movie with me felt like just another routine for him.
I had put in a lot of effort—we went to park together, attended concerts, and even planned short trips. But in the end, I realized he didn't have much time to spend with me.
Watching Tate lower his head, listening to me intently with his eyes never leaving mine, I couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted.
If it weren't for his brain injury, he probably would have never treated me like this in his entire life.
After his haircut, I took him to get some bubble tea before heading home.
But then Tate pointed at a toy car in a child's hand nearby and said, "I want one too."
"You're too old for toys. No way," I refused.
Tate held my hand, looking at me pleadingly.
Oh my gosh, who dressed him up to be this handsome?
"Fine, you win." They surrendered, utterly defeated by their obsession with looks.
He smiled and then dragged me all the way to... a lingerie store.
The sales assistant enthusiastically asked him what size and style he was looking for.
Tate stared at a backless silk nightgown. "Why is there so little fabric? Won't it be cold?"
I quickly pulled him away, my face flushed as I scolded him, "Why are you asking so much? It's not like you're the one wearing it."
Tate asked, "Who would wear something like that?"
"A lot of people do."
He kept pressing, "Would you wear it?"
"Yes, yes, yes," I replied dismissively.
"Who would you wear it for?"
"Certainly not for you."
Tate let go of my hand, pouting as if he was a little upset.
"Huh?"
I had had enough of his sudden childish temper.
He ignored me, so I couldn't be bothered to deal with him either.
When we got back to the neighborhood, I saw Siena again.
She hurried into the same building as mine.
Suddenly, it hit me.
She's my neighbor?
