My Gift Ruined Her—Now Everyone Knows
Chapter 3: The Price of Letting Go
I tried to sound gentle.
"Did you take my perfume?"
She flinched, and I realized I was holding her too tightly.
That scent—no mistake.
I leaned in, breathing it in.
She whimpered, pulling away.
She started crying, hard.
She shook her head, sobbing.
I took a breath, trying to calm down.
He stepped in, hands raised.
"She’s a little different."
He lowered his voice, like it was a secret.
Why should I be the one to let it go?
Let it go?
After everything, I’m just supposed to drop it?
I lived on ramen for two months.
I skipped every treat, every night out.
Life never handed me anything, either.
He patted my shoulder, but it felt hollow.
He held out his hand, waiting.
My forehead throbbed.
You run this place. It’s your job.
He shrugged, totally unfazed.
"Go ahead, sue me."
Was it worth the fight?
She looked so small, hugging her bunny.
I pulled out my phone, resigned.
A hundred bucks—gone.
He nodded, like we’d made a deal.
My steps felt heavy.
The hallway seemed endless.
I’d forgotten the damn box.
At least I could give her the box.
Maybe she could use it for something.
I turned around and went back.
The place smelled like dust.
He was still on the phone, grinning.
He talked about seafood deals.
She was playing with the cat, giggling.
He sounded proud.
He slung the groceries over his shoulder.
Something didn’t sit right.
I slipped out after him.
He went inside, groceries in hand.
She looked surprised to see me.
I stepped up, clearing my throat.
The scent hit me—daisy perfume.
He froze, eyes wide.
"You stole my perfume, didn’t you?"
She looked from him to me.
He set the groceries down, glaring.
I pushed past, looking for the bottle.
There it was, half-used.
"Explain this!"
I froze.
I checked the cap.
The cap was gone.
My face burned.
She picked up the bottle, frowning.
He crossed his arms.
I scratched my head, mumbling.
I tried to laugh it off.
He pointed at the groceries.
She shook her head, laughing.
I backed out, apologizing.
My cheeks burned.
