The Boy Who Tattooed My Name on His Chest novel Chapter 66

Andre picked up things quickly, but when it came to learning how to be a good boyfriend, he fumbled a bit. He didn't know how to say sweet things, and most of the time, he just stuck close to me.

It felt like we had switched roles. At lunch, I handed him my meal card, asking him to get me a couple of dishes. But instead of using my meal card, he went to the most expensive counter and ordered a soup. That soup cost him three days' worth of pocket money.

I was furious. "Who allowed you to waste money? And I gave you my meal card, so why didn't you use it?"

Andre checked the temperature of the soup and pushed it in front of me. His answer felt evasive. "I didn't waste it. This soup is good for your recovery."

He was like a stubborn child who had already spent the money, so I could scold him all I wanted. I wanted to say more, but then someone sat down across from me. It was Sherry, someone I hadn't seen in a while.

"Can I join you guys for lunch, Betty?" She glanced at my soup and smiled. "My brother has been sticking to you lately. I haven't had much time to hang out with him. But I kinda miss my brother, so I wanted to take this chance to talk with him."

An unknown awkwardness spread between Sherry and me. I nodded slightly in response. Sherry didn't seem to notice my sudden detachment. She smiled sweetly at me and said, "You're so sweet. I'm really worried my brother might end up with a girlfriend who's jealous and overly possessive, one who'd get jealous of me too."

As she spoke, she pulled the cilantro out of her dish.

"Luckily, you're not like that."

I awkwardly tightened my grip on my fork, unsure of what to say. After all, there had been moments when I reflected on whether it was ridiculous for me to feel jealous of my boyfriend's sister.

Andre slammed his chopsticks onto the plate. "Are you done?"

Sherry pouted, looking quite exaggerated. "I'm sorry, Andre. Good brothers are always someone else's, and my brother only knows how to be harsh with me."

I quietly sipped my soup, feeling like an outsider among the three of us.

The whole meal was filled with Sherry's occasional cheerful chatter. But once her phone notification chimed, she picked it up and stopped talking.

"Why has he been so quiet during class breaks?"

I glanced over at his seat. He seemed to be texting someone, his fingers tapping away non-stop. His expression mirrored the restlessness he showed the day I sprained my ankle.

That time, it was about Sherry.

Compared to the last time when I was full of suspicion and tried to convince myself otherwise, this time, the sadness and disappointment felt almost fleeting.

It was so light that I almost forgot I hadn't broken up with him yet. It wasn't until Friday evening, when I remembered Sherry's birthday, that I thought about it.

Sunday was Sherry's birthday. When it was my birthday, she spent over half a month making me a miniature castle as a gift. I should reciprocate this time.

I decided that on her birthday when I would go to her house to give her the gift, I'd also officially break up with Andre.