My Emotionally Unavailable Boyfriend Loves My Bestie

My best friend, Stella Powell, caught sight of me first and waved at me with a bright smile on her face.

I walked over to them, but my boyfriend, Jason Carpenter, didn't even look up at me. He was busy wiping clean the tableware for Stella when he wouldn't even lift a single finger to help me with the housework at home.

Stella told me excitedly, "Tammy! I bet the traffic was horrible today. It's pouring with rain everywhere!"

I nodded without saying a single word, and she just continued yapping away.

"We haven't had rain this heavy in ages. I simply didn't know what to do when I stepped out of the office building, but thank goodness your Jason had an umbrella and walked me here! If not, I would have been terribly late!"

"Oh, really?" I asked, forcing a smile before looking at the man in front of me.

"Since you had an umbrella, why didn't you also come along to pick me up?"

Jason didn't stop what he was doing. He simply arranged the tableware one by one in front of Stella before saying nonchalantly, "I only had one umbrella."

He was still as brief and curt as ever.

He only had one umbrella, so according to him, he couldn't shield me from the rain if he shielded Stella… But I was the one working at the same company as he did, and it would make more sense to bring me along than to shield Stella.

The waiter arrived just then with our dishes. I saw that our main course was smothered in a layer of vibrant green cilantro.

"Here are your dishes, sir. We added the extra cilantro as per your note earlier."

"Good. Thanks," Jason said, smiling at the waiter.

Stella took a bite of her dish, and her eyes lit up immediately. "Oh, my God, this tastes amazing! You really know all my tastes, Jason!"

The corners of Jason's mouth turned up briefly. He was clearly in a good mood. He then glanced at me silently as though signaling me to start eating.

However, I froze in place with my fork in my hand, unable to even move a muscle. I simply couldn't bring myself to eat.

I hated cilantro with a passion. And yet, after seven years together, he still hadn't remembered that. Or, maybe he did, but he simply didn't care.

My sense of smell had become a lot more heightened ever since my pregnancy, and I couldn't suppress the rising wave of nausea inside of me, so I let out a dry heave.

Jason frowned and glanced at me. He didn't say a word, but I could see the look of disgust in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Stella widened her eyes and looked at me. "Wait. Tammy, you don't take cilantro, do you? Here, give me all the cilantro on your plate. I'll eat them for you!"

She smiled at me and picked out every bit of cilantro from my bowl while Jason looked at her approvingly, even using his fork and knife to help her cut up her protein.

I never knew that a man who was such a germaphobe—who refused to even touch my utensils after I'd held them—would actually use his own personal knife and fork to help another woman cut up her steak.

And even though it was my birthday, there wasn't a single person who wished me a happy birthday throughout the meal.

When the bill was settled, the waiter brought over a complimentary dessert, and Jason took it from him before naturally handing it over to Stella.

When we left the restaurant, he only held the door open for Stella before letting go, making the heavy door slam into my face. It hurt so much that it immediately brought tears to my eyes.

By the time I recovered and walked out the door, the two of them were already half a block ahead of me.

They were walking shoulder to shoulder with each other, as if there was never a third person in this gathering all along. Then, they turned the corner, and their figures vanished completely from sight.

From the start, neither of them bothered to look back at me even once.

I stood there quietly for a moment before turning around and walking in the opposite direction instead, returning to the office and continuing working overtime until the early hours of the morning.

My colleague teased me with a smile, "You're working too hard through your pregnancy, Tamara. Why are you staying out this late? Won't Mr. Carpenter get worried about you?"

I simply smiled at her and glanced at my phone. There wasn't a single call or message asking about my whereabouts or checking in on me—only a question mark Jason sent me two hours ago.

Every time we had a disagreement, Jason would always resort to giving me the silent treatment, and every time, I was always the one who had to back down and apologize first.

I stared at that question mark until my eyes ached, suddenly realizing that everything was pointless.

So, I tapped into our chat window and typed out a message to him.

"Let's break up, Jason."