Only His Friends Decide if I'm Worthy

Isabel's POV

After five years together with Johnny Ludwig, this was the first time I'd failed the rating game without crying. The group was surprised and started teasing me.

"Well, look at that. Hell must have frozen over. The crybaby actually didn't shed a tear."

"See? I told you she'd get used to us. She's gotten tougher every year."

"Johnny used to tell us to look after her. Looks like she does just fine without us."

They laughed and traded jokes at my expense.

Johnny sat there and said nothing. He had never once defended me in front of his friends because they mattered more to him than I did.

The first year of the rating game, I got a zero. I couldn't hold back and cried right in front of everyone.

Johnny didn't hand me a tissue. He just let them take pictures of me with my makeup smeared across my face. The group still passes those photos around even now.

Rhea Sherman pouted. "Okay, enough. Leave her alone, or I'm going to get mad."

She turned to me and pushed a plate across the table. "Try this, Isabel. I don't think it's as good as Johnny's cooking."

She looked at me with a bright smile, waiting for my reaction.

I shook my head. "I've never had anything Johnny cooked. I don't know what it tastes like."

He always said he hated the smell of cooking and that making food was too much trouble. Even when I had a bad stomach bug and begged him to make me a bowl of soup, he didn't set foot in the kitchen.

But he cooked for Rhea and the others all the time. It turned out he didn't hate cooking. He just wasn't willing to cook for me.

Rhea glared at Johnny. "What kind of boyfriend are you? Cook something for Isabel when you get home, or you'll answer to me."

Even when she tried to sound stern, she was too pretty to be intimidating.

Johnny poked her puffed-up cheek and smiled indulgently. "Since you insist, I'll definitely do it."

I blinked. "No need. My stomach hasn't been doing well lately, so I can't eat anything greasy."

Rhea let out a small gasp, looking awkward. "Then have the kitchen make you something else. Nothing on this table is good for you."

Johnny stopped her and said casually, "Isabel, just bear with it. Not everyone can cater to you."

Someone laughed and chimed in mockingly. "Exactly. It's not like you've never eaten this kind of food before. Why are you being so picky?"

Johnny liked heavily seasoned food, and so did his friends. I couldn't handle spicy food, but I forced myself to eat it anyway to fit in.

Once, when I had a stomach bug, they suddenly decided to have a light meal. I thought Johnny had chosen it especially for me. I was secretly happy that he'd finally thought about what I needed.

Worried his friends would be upset, I quickly explained, "I haven't been feeling well. Sorry that you have to eat something this light with me."

To my surprise, they burst out laughing.

"Get real. We came because Rhea wanted to eat here. It had nothing to do with you."

"Johnny, your girlfriend really thinks the world revolves around her. So shameless."

I had never felt so sick over a light meal, and it wasn't the food that was turning my stomach.

Now, as I struggled with the spice again, Johnny picked up a small bowl of water and set it beside me without a word.

The moment I saw the bowl, I remembered the first time the spice had made me cry. Johnny had looked so guilty then, so I told him, "I'll just dip my food in the water. It'll help with the spice."

Now he couldn't even look at me.

"I don't want to eat," I said.

However, my words were drowned out by a new round of conversation. Nobody heard, and nobody cared.