"You know you get a stomachache from eating ice cream, but you still can't resist it."
I took a bite in a daze, and it was salty.
"Your ice cream tastes off," I said to the ice cream truck owner, my voice trembling.
The owner glanced at me and handed me a tissue. "Miss, maybe you need to wipe your tears first."
I looked up, my eyes blurred, and I realized that tears had fallen on the ice cream.
No wonder it tasted salty.
I sniffed, turned around, and went home.
I received a message from Alex as soon as I got home
[Have you arrived home?]
I glanced at it and didn't reply.
Soon, he sent another message: [Everyone didn't have a good meal because of you today. Let's invite them to dinner another day.]
I still didn't reply to him.
He seemed to have lost patience and called me directly.
I put down my phone and turned a deaf ear.
When I came back after washing up, the phone had already fallen silent.
Before going to bed, I habitually browsed through the WhatsApp statuses and unexpectedly saw a photo Vivian posted five minutes ago.
The driver was driving in front, and Alex and Vivian were sitting in the back seat of the car.
In the photo, he was resting his eyes languidly, while Vivian was shyly looking at the camera in a posture that leaned against him.
The caption of the photo was: [It turns out I am still your first choice after so many years.]
I gave a self-mocking smile and replied to her: [Congratulations.]
