August 10th is my birthday.
As a lonely office worker far from home, my bestie ordered me a cake and sadly informed me that she had to work late. She promised to video call me before midnight to help me get through the tough night, and we'd celebrate properly tomorrow.
I expressed my sympathy and understanding.
Not thinking much of it, I picked up the cake that evening, planning to light a few candles and have Tate sing me "Happy Birthday." That would count as a celebration.
But what did I see when I walked in?
A glowing Christmas tree!
A Christmas tree full of gifts!
Tate stood in the soft glow, hanging gifts on the tree.
Almost thinking I had walked into the wrong apartment, I asked, "What are you doing?"
Tate turned to look at me, smiling slightly, "Happy Birthday!"
I was hit right in the feels.
Oh my god, how can someone be so sweet? He's so handsome, so cute—I can't handle it!
I bounced over, reaching for one of the stockings hanging on the tree. "Wow, when I was little, I was always so jealous of the kids in movies who had Christmas trees and gifts! I've dreamed of having a Christmas tree full of presents!"
He softly said, "I know."
He pulled out a round red apple from the tree, and after taking a big bite, I impulsively kissed his cheek.
He curved his lips into a smile. "You like apples that much?"
I shouted, "I like you!"
His smile grew even brighter.
The two of us, giddy with excitement, began taking down and unwrapping each of the gifts he had painstakingly hung on the tree. There were snacks, accessories girls would love—like butterfly clips, headbands, necklaces, watches, and even bags. I started to suspect he had bought out an entire street vendor's stall.
He explained, looking a bit aggrieved, that his sister had helped pick out these items at a department store. Two of them were even from Daniella's personal collection.
I picked up the designer bag, "So, is this the real deal?"
He nodded.
I quickly turned on the light, grabbed my tablet, and checked the official website to see how much this bag cost.
After seeing the price, I decided it was better off on display.
Tate patted my head. "What matters is that you like it."
I looked up at him and remembered last year on this day. I was worried he'd forget my birthday, so I sneakily reminded him the day before. But I had to wait until a quarter past midnight for his reply.
"Sorry, I accidentally fell asleep."
I knew he had a business dinner and couldn't get away, and I understood he was tired.
But I still felt disappointed.
Even just a "happy birthday" would've been nice.
"You forgot last time," I said.
Tate pursed his lips slightly. "It won't happen again."
I nodded noncommittally. Who knows, there might not even be a next time.
I got up from the floor, dusted myself off, and went to take a shower.
Tate had already changed into his pajamas and was sitting on the edge of the bed.
I frowned. "Did you take a shower?"
Then I realized something was wrong. "You can't sleep here. Go sleep on the couch."
"Why?"
I snapped, "No reason!"
He obediently went to the living room.
In the middle of the night, half-asleep, I felt a familiar body wrap around me.
I was too tired to resist.
In the morning, I woke up to him kissing me.
When I opened my eyes, I realized my hand was inside his pajama top, resting on his chest.
Tate, looking innocent, said, "You put it there yourself. You even squeezed..."
Unable to accept this reality, I snapped, "Shut up!"
He obediently stayed quiet.
He must be afraid of me scolding him, so he's blaming me instead!
I messaged my bestie: Here's the thing, I feel like Tate has changed a bit. He's not as innocent as he used to be.
Bestie:...He was never innocent, FYI.
Really?
I started to feel suspicious.
Right, if he had amnesia from the head injury, how could he remember my birthday?
Damn it, turns out I'm the one who's been stupid!
While he was in the shower, I stormed over to the couch to search for clues. Lifting his pillow, I was only looking for his phone, but instead, I found my underwear underneath!
It was obviously worn!
I was furious.
The bathroom door opened, and Tate came out, towel-drying his hair. He froze when he saw what I was holding.
I suppressed my anger and asked, "Did you sneak this out of my wardrobe?"
Tate paused for half a second, then nodded.
"How did you turn into such a pervert?"
I was devastated.
I couldn't even begin to imagine what Tate did with it—my mind was filled with disturbing images...
"...Why did you steal this?" I couldn't help but ask.
Tate calmly replied, "I like it."
I never expected him to be this kind of person!
I really misjudged him.
I had so much to say, but in the end, I could only tremble and spit out two words, "You pervert!"
He didn't feel ashamed at all. Instead, he leaned down and kissed me.
This kiss lasted longer than any before, leaving me dizzy.
When he finally let go, I was so angry that I pointed to the corner and told him to go stand there as punishment.
He didn't move.
I was furious. "So now you're not even listening to me, huh?!"
He showed me through his actions that, yes, he wasn't.
He grabbed my hand and kissed me again.
...So now he's not even pretending anymore?
I was so stupid to have trusted him all this time.
I was so close to running away from home out of sheer frustration, but then I realized this was my home, and why should I let him have it? So I just locked myself in my room instead.
Tate softly called my name from outside, but I ignored him.
By noon, I had changed my clothes, and without even glancing at Tate, who was waiting for me at the table with lunch ready, I walked out the door with a sour face.
