Until last night, when it all came crashing down.
Lewis gently stroked my hair as I cried, his touch once a source of comfort but now unbearable. “Stop crying and eat, okay?” he coaxed.
The intimacy I had long cherished only made me feel repelled.
“But, Lewis, I am crying because of you, because of your fake love. It really made don’t want you anymore,” I thought, though I lacked the courage to say it aloud.
Lewis noticed my silence. “Are you still upset about last night?”
The mention of it ignited the anger I had tried to suppress. “How could I not be angry when I saw my boyfriend kissing another girl?”
“Right, right, you have every right to be angry,” he admitted, raising his hands defensively. “But it was just a game, Grace.”
“Truth or dare is a game that should be banned at gatherings!” I shouted, my voice trembling with rage.
Lewis immediately pulled me into a hug, stroking my hair again. “I see how disappointed you are, and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Forgive me, okay? You know I love you.”
He grinned, teasing me. “You can even kiss me to get rid of the kiss marks on my lips.”
I pushed him away, my voice sharp. “No need. I’m hungry.”
I walked to the dining table, grabbed a glass of water, and sipped it while still sobbing. Lewis followed me, sitting close and flashing his usual charming smile.
“Should I feed you? What do you want to eat first?” he offered.
I glared at him. Even when I noticed the bite marks on Lewis’ lips, my anger flared hotter.
"I can eat by myself. I'm 20 years old," I snapped.
Lewis smirked, barely holding back a chuckle. "Right, right, you're an adult."
He had always seen me as the 13-year-old kid who used to trail after him everywhere.
His constant spoiling of me, while occasionally annoying, was something I had come to accept as his way of showing affection.
I slammed my glass down and grabbed the spoon to dig into the meatball soup. My frustration fueled my movements, and in my haste, I choked.
Lewis leaned in, dabbing my mouth with a tissue. "Slow down. Don’t eat while sulking like that."
"I said I can do it myself!" I snatched the tissue from his hand, glaring at him.
Lewis smiled, undeterred. "Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it. I’m heading to the toilet for a minute."
He grabbed his phone but left his wallet on the table. So, the sight of his wallet tempted me.