For the past fourteen years, he had never once forgotten my birthday.
Every year, he'd reserve a private room at the largest hotel in the city and invite my closest friends to celebrate with me.
But this year, he still needed to remember. He was too busy proposing to Jennie to remember me anymore.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed his phone before retreating into the study.
Half an hour later, Julian hurried downstairs. He carried a small cake and a meticulously wrapped gift box this time.
He unwrapped the cake, placed it before me and lit a candle.
"You know I don't eat cake, so I got a small one."
I tilted my head, almost amused.
"Is it pineapple?"
"Yeah, the clerk said this flavor has a great texture. Come on, make a wish. Whatever you wish for, I'll do my best to make it happen."
I stared at him, unmoving.
Seeing the confusion in his expression, I finally asked, "Julian, is there something you want to say to me?"
He paused for a moment, shaking his head with a gentle smile.
"No, why?"
I met Julian's sincere gaze and slowly closed my eyes.
Fine, Julian.
I wish for a future where you're not in it and may we never miss each other.
When I blew out the candles, Julian asked about my wish, but I kept it to myself.
I took the fork from him and forced myself to eat the cake, one painful bite at a time.
I thought pineapple must be the worst fruit in the world!
Sticky and cloying, bitter and astringent.
It wasn't until I was sobbing and hives covered my face that Julian realized something was amiss and tried to take the fork away.
"Wanda, stop eating!"
He snatched the fork away and threw it into the trash.
Holding onto my shoulders, he looked both guilty and furious.
"Why didn’t you say you were allergic? Why did you still eat it?"
I looked at him, smiling through my tears. "Julian, isn’t this version of me ugly?"
Was the me who loved you ugly, too?
Julian took me to the hospital.
While I was on an IV drip, the nurse asked if I had any medication allergies. Julian was about to answer when his phone rang.
I turned my head and saw the caller ID—my Jennie.
Such an intimate name!
Even though she had wronged him for eight years, he still loved her deeply.
Watching him hurry off to take the call in private, I turned back and answered the nurse’s question myself.
When Julian returned, the medicine had left me exhausted and weak.
He propped my head with his hand and bent down to look at me.