Ch. Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 12 Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 12

Chapter 2 

Whatever. We were done tonight anyway. He could take whoever he wanted. 

Still… my chest tightened. Eyes stung. 

“Hey. Do you know what today is?” 

He squinted at me like I’d asked a trick question. 

“What? You’re not on your period yet.” 

“I’m late. Gotta run.” 

Started for the door. 

“Brendan!” 

He stopped. 

I forced a smile. 

“Grab me a cake on your way back. Matcha.” 

He paused. Something clicked. 

“Oh-yeah, sure thing.” 

“And when you get home, we need to talk. For real this time.” 

“Got it.” 

Door shut. 

I turned back to my laptop. 

“Sorry about that. Where were we?” 

He forgot. 

My birthday. 

Two months ago when he asked what I wanted, I kept it simple. Two things. 

That bag I’d been wanting forever. And tickets to this concert. 

Didn’t get the bag. 

Chapter 2 

Now he’s taking her to my concert. 

Can’t even remember my damn birthday. 

Fine. After tonight, I’ll be in Paris. 

And I won’t have to see his face ever again. 

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Chapter 3 

Chapter 3 

That night, Brendan never came home. 

I fell asleep waiting on the office couch. 

In my dream, I saw seven-year-old Brendan holding a stick he’d found on the ground, standing between me and at snarling dog. His whole body was shaking, but he wouldn’t move. 

“I got you, Lily. Don’t be scared.” 

Then I saw eighteen-year-old Brendan. His face was bright red, stumbling over every word. 

“So… would you maybe want to be my girlfriend?” 

“I swear-you’ll always come first. No matter what. I promise.” 

I’d looked down, my face burning hot. 

“Okay. I believe you.” 

Twenty-five, he proposed. 

Twenty-seven, we had our engagement party. 

Now here I was, passed out alone on a couch, waiting to break up with him. 

My phone buzzed. Text from Brendan. 

Too late for Tina to get an Uber. Dropping her off first. Don’t wait up. 

I started typing. 

What about my cake? You forgot again, didn’t you? 

My finger hovered over send. Then I deleted it, word by word. 

Okay. 

Sent. 

I turned over, using my arm as a pillow and closed my eyes. 

09:28 

Mr. Chatterbox for Her, Mr. Iceberg for Me? Ice Melts, and So Did My Love! 

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