Take Your Male Best Friend and Get Out

After I got home, I quickly freshened up and lay down.

My phone pinged with a message.

[I know it was just a coincidence. Focus on your work. Don't be so childish. Theodore and I are just friends, nothing more.]

I could sense Isabella's superior attitude through the screen.

Annoyed, I replied anyway.

[Am I the only one who doesn't belong in your group? I saw Theodore kiss you, and you didn't even pull away! Is that what 'just friends' means now? You slapped me hard for him!]

With every word, I felt the voice in my head roaring.

I held my phone, quietly waiting for her response. Maybe I just wanted her to fight with me.

I didn't know how long I waited, but I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, it was already dark.

Staring at the blank phone screen, the last bit of warmth in my heart faded into the empty room.

Even though I'd slept, I didn't feel refreshed at all. In fact, I felt even more exhausted.

Lying in bed with my eyes closed, I tried to calm down. Before long, I heard Isabella open the door and come in.

I was too emotionally drained to waste any energy on her now.

The sound of her heels stopped by the bed, but she didn't move for a long time. I could feel her staring at me.

Maybe she was tired too.

With my eyes closed, all I wanted in that moment was a bit of peace.

She was probably wondering why I wasn't sitting in the living room waiting to angrily confront her like before.

Looking back, every time I argued hysterically with her, she would just sit there, looking down on me with tired, annoyed eyes, as if I were a child who couldn't get their way.

Ever since Theodore came back from abroad three years ago, it was like a key that opened the floodgates to our arguments.

It started with meeting an old senior, then a classmate, and eventually turned into this so-called "best friend" situation.

Their relationship had always been pure; it was just my wild imagination that couldn't find its limits.

After that, she would only give me routine explanations, leaving me to vent my feelings like a fool, until I eventually sank into the darkness alone.

Now, I'm just tired. I want to close my eyes and rest. I don't want to argue with Isabella anymore.

I used to be so childish, always clinging to her, trying to fit into her world, following in her footsteps.

No wonder Isabella got fed up with me. I'm fed up with my old self too.

Isabella, seeing I wasn't reacting, reached out and touched my cheek. I could still feel a bit of numbness. There was probably still a red mark from earlier.

I felt the warmth of her hand, but inside, I was cold. This was so typical of her. She hit me hard and then offered some sweetness.

In the past, if she had cradled my face and looked at me gently, I would have fallen right back into her trap of tenderness.

But this time, I didn't respond. I knew she knew I was awake, but I was tired. I didn't want to waste any more of my energy on her.

To her, I was just acting like a child with a temper, sulking and ignoring her.

After a while, she finally went to wash up. That was a relief. At least we avoided arguing over the petty stuff she always talks about.

Hearing the water running outside, I finally felt at ease and drifted back to sleep.

Ever since our last fight, I had been staying in the guest room. We were practically living apart now.