Chapter 3

Aiden's POV

Daryl deliberately emphasized the word "peach" every time he said it.

I just put the drink on the table and said, "Thank you, but you can both have it instead."

Daryl let out a disappointed "Oh," and lowered his head. "But Aiden, I'm really not contagious or anything."

Bridget frowned. She dragged me out to the balcony and warned me in a low voice, "What the hell is wrong with you? Daryl personally made that drink for you. You're going to embarrass him if you don't take it."

I met her gaze.

"I can't drink peach—"

"Why not? You've always liked peach frappes, haven't you? You're just doing this to Daryl on purpose, aren't you?"

I suddenly realized how ridiculous it all was.

I had already told her about my peach allergy the same year I met her. Even inhaling peach fuzz would cause a reaction in my airways, so consuming anything with peaches would be even more disastrous for me.

When had she begun thinking that I liked peach frappes in the first place?

When she saw that I wasn't responding to her question, she sighed heavily and said, "Are you still mad because I forgot your coffee earlier? Or is it because Daryl drank your peach frappe?

"Why are you being so sensitive lately? Daryl and I are just ordinary friends. What's the point of you being jealous of him?"

She suddenly realized that my blazer I'd hung out to dry on the balcony was missing. She thought that I had taken it in to wear it the next day to work, so she softened her tone and tugged on my wrist.

"Alright, don't be mad anymore. You're going to be promoted to a managerial position soon. And managers aren't as petty as you are right now.

"Once this busy season is over, I'll take you to Grand Sky Dining next month for a romantic dinner, alright? It'll be just the two of us."

I drew my lips in a straight line and pulled my hand out of her grasp.

She was stunned and subconsciously took a step forward.

Daryl suddenly began walking toward the door with red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry, Aiden. I won't make coffee for you anymore. Please don't fight just because of me."

Then, he turned and practically ran out of the apartment.

Bridget's face turned dark at once. "Happy now?"

She grabbed her jacket and wanted to run out after Daryl, but I stopped her.

"Do you still remember when my birthday is, Bridget?"

She was already halfway out the door when she heard my question. However, she hesitated at the door and responded, "When was it again? I've been really busy lately and—"

"It was yesterday."

I hadn't wanted to go with her to her friends' gathering yesterday, but I misunderstood her, thinking that she had been planning to celebrate my birthday with her friends.

Bridget stiffened at the door, a flash of guilt appearing in her eyes. However, it only appeared for a fraction of a second. She still rushed out of the door toward the elevator when she heard it ding.

"Stay at home and wait for me! I'll go and get you a cake and make it up to you!"

The door shut after her, and everything was quiet once more.

I finally unclenched my right fist that had already turned ice-cold.

She still hadn't come home by 8:00 pm later that day. She just called me, sounding very excited on the phone.

"It was such a coincidence! Daryl just told me that he missed our high school teacher, and as it turned out, our teacher happened to be in our city on a business trip! I've already called my other friends to meet up. I won't be back for dinner anymore!"

I stared at the dinner I'd already prepared on the table. The food had already gone cold by now. Even the cream on the ice cream cake had begun melting into a weird gloop.

"But you said—"

She then hung up on me and texted me instead.

"It's just too noisy here. I'll be back after dinner. Go to bed early tonight and rest well."

My fingers froze on the phone screen. I just didn't have the strength to reply to her text anymore.

A short while later, I saw that Daryl had posted on his Instagram stories. The first one was a video of Bridget serving him some food from a buffet table.

He said, "Wow, it's been years, and I can't believe you still remember my favorite dishes."

Bridget replied, "Of course I still remember everything about you! How could I ever forget?"

I shut my eyes and felt my phone vibrating again. This time, it was an email.

"Good day, Mr. Aiden Rossario. Congratulations on your new position at our company. Kindly report to the office in two days at 8:00 am to complete your onboarding procedures. Thank you."

I got up and threw the cold dinner into the trash, including the cake I'd bought. I'd guessed that she would buy the wrong type of cake, so I had gone through the trouble to buy it myself.

But now, the cream and frosting had completely melted, and the "Happy Birthday" written on the cake had already smudged into a horrible, ugly mess.

The cake couldn't wait for her anymore.

I didn't want to wait for her anymore either.

…

It was dawn by the time Bridget finally came home.

"You're still up?" she asked. "Sorry, I forgot to buy the cake for you. But this is one that Daryl bought for you as his way of apologizing to you."

I didn't even need to turn around and look to know that it was a peach mille-feuille cake he'd bought.

"You can have it instead."

"Aiden Rosario! Are you done with your stupid tantrum? Don't you know that Daryl—"

"I'm allergic to peaches."