“You know… my ex… he never bought me anything. Not for my birthday, or for Valentine’s Day, or anything. I can’t believe I missed that major red flag…” She trailed off, presumably fast asleep.
Joe ran out of her room to confirm his theory, then complained of fatigue.
“Ok Joe, we’ll go off soon. I just need to do something first.”
“What?”
“Keep your voice down, do you know how rare it is for her to fall asleep? I’m just trying to see what…” His eyes flew around the room. “...would make the perfect gift.”
“Zombies!”
“No, Joe, she doesn’t like zombies. She likes sweet food, pretty clothes, and is surprisingly good at bowling.”
“Ok…”
“Nap on the couch Joe, I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”
Joe agreed, dozing off immediately.
He took his notebook out of his pocket, unrolled and flattened it on his chest, then flipped to an open page. He begins investigating, searching every nook and cranny of her house; only deciding that the bathroom was off-limits.
Her fridge contained the bare minimum required to sustain a person, one packet of vegetables and a single apple. Most of her cupboards were completely empty, clearly unused from day one, but was yet spick and span. The drawers were where her cutlery was laid, one spoon and one fork. Below that laid a few plates and bowls, and below that laid nothing else. Would she appreciate kitchenware? It made sense to buy it for her, but did not make the most romantic gift in his eyes.
He moved on to the couch and the coffee table. Her laptop sat charging, and Sam opened it up to check the brand. Lacking knowledge in computers, he took a photo and emailed it to his cousin to judge its quality. A new laptop perhaps? Or maybe something more conventionally romantic.
He struggled remembering all he'd seen so far, and so he started writing it down in bullet points. He placed his ideas in brackets on the next page. He went on to her bedroom, only searching through the cabinets that were already open prior. All her clothes lay neatly stacked and folded, and he found that admirable. Beside her clothes however was something peculiar.
He carefully picked it up, surprised by how much it weighed. A small knock indicates glass on the inside, and upon opening it, he found a small bottle of perfume. He sprayed it out of curiosity, and smelled flowers. He inspected closer, and it seemed the bottle was about to run out. And then it struck him, he quickly took a photo of the bottle and finally left her place. Joe couldn’t stop grumbling the entire trip back home.
**
He checked his mail next Monday. Nothing. It seems his cousin over-estimated the speed of shipping deliveries once again. It surprised him that the cousin agreed to buy all these expensive items so nonchalantly, and wondered how easy-going his life must be to act this way. He daydreamt how he’d thrive in that sort of life.
He spent his free hundred dollars as frugally as possible, trying his best to dissuade Honey from expensive requests. She pointed at the most expensive plush toy in the shop, and Sam had to keep his jaw up from reading the price tag. He slyly picked up the one beside it, and started to talk up its value. “I think this one is so much cuter, you know?”
Fortunately, she agreed. His cousin can only send him so many cheques after all, or can he actually send him all the money he could ever ask for. Even if so, the money wouldn’t be his, and he’d feel immoral spending it on himself. His cousin supported his relationship, which assured Sam that using his money on it counted as his cousin’s investment, like buying stock or lottery tickets.
Wednesday, it hasn’t arrived, now he began to panic. He only had two days left. Every time he arrived early to their dates, he felt the butterflies cower in his stomach. He would pray to a wishing star that she'd cancel the last minute and bail on him. It confused him how much he grew to dislike spending time with her, despite liking her for almost a year. This isn’t the Honey he knew.
He remembered Sonia’s warning, and began to wonder if her claims held water. Did he really not catch this side of her personality before? Or did he willfully ignore it in favour of feeling butterflies. Strangely, he missed crushing on her from a distance.
All the restaurants she chose were terrible. The food served tasted odd and could barely feed one person despite bankrupting many. He spelled his troubled feelings to his cousin, and decided he wouldn't ask for a cent more after the gift arrived.
**
Friday, finally it arrived. With little time on the clock, he did away with wrapping it, and simply hid it under the couch. He wanted to celebrate in a private setting first before going to dinner, and surprisingly she agreed.
She arrived smelling and wearing western food on her apron. She quickly took it off and neatly folded it away. He got Joe to give her a cup of lemonade again, and she gladly chugged down the whole cup. “How do you make this? It’s so good. Do you have a recipe?”
“I’ll give you one later, but anyway… I got a present for you!”
“Aw, Sam!”
He took it out from under the couch cushions, praying it wasn’t damaged or scratched in any way. From her reaction however, it looked like it was.
“Why, you don’t like it?” Her face went pale white. Did he buy the wrong brand by accident? Or did he misinterpret the purpose of it?
“No! I love it!” She set it aside, chewing her thumb. He did something wrong.
“You look scared, what’s going on?” He reached his hand out, and she repelled back.
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“I uh… cut my hand during work, so…”
“Oh my god!” He exclaimed. “Where?”
“No, it’s fine, my manager bandaged it for me.”
“Can I see?”
“No!”
“Well, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, we all get injured sometimes.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“It’s fine. Dinner?”
He paused for awhile, doubts brewing stronger than ever. For some reason, today he found the courage to express them to her. “Ok, seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong?” His tone grew sternly.
“Sam, what’s going on?”
“I’m asking you that! Answer me.”
“Are you sick?”
“Stop it. Something’s wrong with you.”
“Uh… ouch?”
“Stop it!”
“Something’s wrong with me? Excuse me?”
“Stop doing that!”
“Doing what!”
“I- like- stop- like- changing the topic or whatever, I don’t know how to describe it, but you know what I’m talking about!”
“No, I don’t.”
“Honey, please, I just want to talk to you. You’ve been acting weird this past week.”
“I have?”
“You’re asking me to buy so many things for you. First it was that keychain, then the phone case, then the plush toy, what- I don’t have infinite money to spend on you, even if I wanted to!”
“Do you even want to?”
“Yeah! I want to buy you all the presents in the world but I can’t!”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have money! I’m poor!”
“No, why do you want to buy all the presents in the world for me?”
“Because I love you!”
“Do you?”
“Yes!”
“Prove it.”
He pointed to the present he just gave her.
“Yeah, well, why would you love me anyway?”
“Because- you’re so pretty and cute!”
“Oh, so you just like me for my looks?”
“No, not just that!”
“So you don’t like me for my looks?”
“No- N- what are you even talking about right now?”
“I don’t feel like you love me anymore.”
“What, why would you feel that?” He regretted not buying her kitchenware or a new laptop.
“Because you don’t want to buy gifts for me anymore!” Out of the blue, she started crying. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t touch me!” She slapped it away.
“What’s going on Honey? Seriously. You’re not acting like yourself.”
“I am! This is me Sam! This is who I am! So either deal with it- or go find another girl to be with! I want presents, and if you can’t give me that, you’re not right for me.”
“Huh? What, no! That’s not who you are!”
“What?”
“I know you, and this is not who you are.” He demanded. “You aren’t this selfish, entitled, stupid bratty princess! If you were I would’ve never liked you.”
Honey went speechless.
“You’re- you’re responsible! You fold your clothes neatly, you- you make sure every inch of your house is clean even though you live alone, you work a part-time job to support yourself, that’s who you are! You’re so hardworking and responsible. I mean, you live alone in a terrible neighbourhood but you still give it your all everyday despite how terrible your parents were or how terrible things get. That’s who you are!”
Honey wanted to say something, but stopped herself. Sam inched closer towards her.
“You’re strong. You never let anything knock you down. And that’s what I love about you. You’re a fighter, you’re a- a- I- a- , and on top of that you’re pretty, which is just a bonus. I know who you are, okay? And asking for plushies or phone cases, that’s not you… that’s some- petty scumbag person that I hate even more than I hate Sonia. So what’s going on?”
“You think I’m a scumbag?”
“No, that’s not what I- mm! Can you just talk to me?”
“Not if you’re gonna keep insulting me!”
“Oh my god, why do you keep interpreting my words in like the worst way possible? It’s almost like you're fishing for a reason to fight! It’s like you want to hate me for some reason. I mean, like- if you hate me so much, why even date me to begin with? Why even give me a chance after so long if you hate me? Why even pretend if you hate me?”
“I never said that.”
“Course you didn’t.”
“I want to break up. Stay away from me.” Honey announced and left the house in flash.
**
He screamed and roared at the furniture, using the couch as his punching bag. He tossed the cushions around the room, not giving a care in the world if he breaks any of his aunt’s precious items. “Stupid- stupid- stupid- even after I bought you all those things? Even after I got you all those dinners? This is how you repay me?” He mocked, “Oh, stay away from me, oh, you don’t love me anymore, what does that even mean! Why would she even have a reason to think that? What did I even do? I literally bought her the perfume she uses! I bought the keychain, I bought the stupid- stupid- the soft toy, I bought the dinner, the pasta, the flower- I bought everything! I deserve this!” He looked around and saw Joe cowering in the corner.
“I deserve this…” He sat down and weeped to himself. “Joe…” He sniffed. “I deserve this! This is not fair! I worked hard, I deserve this!”
Joe cautiously stepped out and embraced him.
“Can you pass me my notebook, I gotta- write something down.” He pinched his forehead.
“Where?”
“On the table, like it always is!” He raised his voice. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to shout at you… it’s, it’s on the table.”
Joe nodded and left. “It’s not there!”
“What? Yes it is, I placed it there.”
Joe shook his head.
“What? Uh… check my bag maybe.”
Joe searched through his bag and brought out a book.
“No, that’s my book for school, my notebook. The one I always carry around.” His gut dropped. Was Joe just being blind?
Joe shook his head again.
“Oh no…” He said to himself, and started dumping out everything from his bag.