Do you still love me

Short Story: Do you still love me?

– "I skipped class today." He texted her.

– "How do you know?" she replied.

– "Where are you?"

– "Megastar. A new movie came out today. I went with some friends from class. We skipped practice as a group, it's not just me."

– "You're something else. Do you realize this is the crunch time? There are only a few months left until the university entrance exams. Huh?"

– "I'm sorry. Heh heh."

Whenever she did something wrong, she would stick out her tongue and say sorry. And she knew that every time she did, he would forgive her. But it seemed she was wrong. Terribly wrong.

– "If you want to find someone to repeat the script of around this time last year, go right ahead." — he texted back just that, but she knew he was angry.

Suddenly, she felt scared, a sharp pain piercing her heart.

– "It's true I went out, but not to find a replacement. I just wanted... I just wanted..." — she started typing, leaving it unfinished, and didn't write anymore. She deleted it.

– "I'm sorry, Hubby... I'm so sleepy. Wake me up tomorrow, okay? I know I've been bad. Please, for goodness' sake, forgive me. Hehe... ~..."

– "How many times have you apologized? I don't have an endless supply of forgiveness for you to keep asking! Honestly, in your eyes, what on earth am I to you?"

She was stunned. Was he that angry? Was he losing his temper with her? Just over something so utterly trivial? He had never dared to use harsh words with her. Because she was just a child—she was the one who had told him this before accepting his love. He knew it, and he had told her that because he loved her, he accepted everything. And because of that, he would try to push his pride aside, bury his ego deep underground, and do everything to make her happy, just to love her.

Fine, it was the 12th grade, and she was well aware of how important studying was. Who told her to boldly declare: "Someday I'll get a job and take care of you" ... But he had to understand that after all those study pressures, she needed a little time to relax. If he wasn't going to be understanding, the least he could do was not care or think about her feelings. She had already lowered herself to apologize, yet he was still acting difficult and throwing a tantrum. A lump of pride choked her throat, leaving a bitter taste. Furiously, she pressed her delicate fingers against her phone keyboard:

– "So what now? Are we playing or quitting?"

– "Drop that insolent tone right now!"

Oh, right. She flew into a rage:

– "Fine. Let's break up. I'm sorry for loving you!"

Before meeting him, she was a rebellious kid. Playful, lazy at studying, mischievous, bossy... She embodied all the bad traits of a child who "does not follow Uncle Ho's five teachings." One day, taking advantage of her older sister being fast asleep in her "midday dream," she "jacked" her sister's brand-new, glossy paint-job, license-plate-free motorbike and took off to "cruise the streets like a cloud." Cluelessly enough, she ended up bumping right into a "blockhead guy"—him—who was on his way to pick up documents for his company.

She panicked, figuring she was in for an earful from the "victim" and would probably even have to compensate the "old guy." Just as she was about to open her mouth: "Mister, I was in a rush and didn't bring any money, I'm so sorry..." she saw the "old guy" looming right in front of her, looking at her with worried eyes:

– "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Her eyes went wide, thinking to herself:

– "Whoa... The world has turned upside down..."

And just like that, they met. Not long after, they fell in love. They loved each other deeply.

HE—with all the maturity of someone six years older—loved her devotedly. SHE—held a bachelor's degree in kindergarten behavior, with a personality that barely surpassed that of actual kindergarteners.

He was trying his best to tutor her nature, aiming to gradually upgrade her to elementary school, middle school, high school, and hopefully university! Thanks to him and his love, she had changed a lot. She became hardworking, learned to think more maturely, and became obedient and polite... Her parents must have been very grateful to him too. All because he was tactful, always knowing how to guide her gently and properly... Yet this time...

The first day after the breakup.

– "Babe! I want to go eat ice cream." — The message sent. She panicked as she suddenly realized, "We've broken up already." Perhaps nagging him every day had become her "elegant pastime." Then she told herself she would get used to it eventually...

– "I'm busy today." — She was startled to see his reply. Short, concise, and "striking straight to the heart." She gave a bitter smile.

The second day after the breakup.

Treating herself to a thorough shopping spree. Clothes and shoes managed to push away her longing for him for a little bit. Upon returning home, that hollow, nauseous feeling came rushing back...

Looking in the mirror. She looked at herself. She smiled again. She told the girl standing in the mirror:

– "What are you smiling for? Look at that face, acting like you're so happy!"

The third day after the breakup.

Coming home from school, she went online. She ran into a guy friend she had met online. The two of them chatted away like crazy, laughing until they almost fell off their chairs. The guy asked her to teach him how to flirt with... his English teacher. She enthusiastically gave him advice. Suddenly, she remembered how she used to try to set him and the girl next door up, even planning to get him "matched and paired" with that girl. Thank goodness he hadn't agreed. A pang of tightness gripped her heart...

The fourth day after the breakup.

She was truly bored, though she didn't even know what she was bored with. She was sometimes like that. Lying around aimlessly, torturing her phone. Walking back and forth, standing up then lying back down. She missed him, her head spinning. Maybe she was wrong... He scolded her because he wanted the best for her, it wasn't like he hated her. How could she throw a tantrum at him? Unconsciously, she heard his voice:

– "Is something wrong?"

– "No!" — she startled when she realized she had subconsciously called him.

– "Oh, wait. I'm sad. Sing me a song, okay?" She had always wanted that. She wanted to sit and listen to him sing to wash away all her sadness.

– "Yeah. Then wait for me to get to the balcony!"

Her eyes widened to see that he wasn't snapping at her at all the way she had imagined.

– "Yes! Never mind... Go back to sleep." — She hung up.

The fifth day after the breakup.

She didn't go to school today. She didn't do anything either. She just lay flat on her bed. No one knew her tears were soaking the pillow.

She missed him. Sickly so. But she didn't dare call him like she did yesterday; she knew he was at work.

The sixth day after the breakup.

Early in the morning, the online guy friend texted to check on her, "because I haven't seen you online for a few days." She was fine, just the usual.

A second message from the guy:

– "Sis, do you love me? Hehe."

She fell silent. A stinging sensation flared up in the bridge of her nose. Someone used to ask her that exact question. Rummaging through the messy clutter in her mind, she realized all her joys and sorrows were created by him. Yet she had demanded a break-up while he was swamped with work, still never forgetting to shower her with love. She felt so selfish.

The seventh day after the breakup.

– "Babe."

– "What is it?"

– "I'm downstairs at your place."

– "Wait for me, I'm coming down."

He hurried out to open the gate, as if afraid that if he kept her waiting a moment longer, she would vanish forever. She stood there, her eyes and nose completely red and swollen. The moment she saw him, she burst into tears. Flustered, he pulled her into his arms:

– "What's wrong? Who bullied you?"

– "Babe...!" — she whimpered — "I'm sorry... I was wrong... Waaaaaah..."

He chuckled softly, patting her head:

– "Alright, alright... I know... Stop crying, or the neighbors will think I'm beating you up..."

Snug in his embrace, feeling the warmth.

She whispered:

– "Hubby!"

– "Hmm?"

– "Sing for me, pleeeeease..."

– "What song?"

– "Love All Over Again (Yêu Lại Từ Đầu)."

– "But I can't sing well."

– "Doesn't matter."

– "Alright, fine, I'll sing."

He couldn't sing well—not even a little bit—yet she still grinned from ear to ear.

She cut him off mid-song.

– "Babe! I'm sorry."

– "What for?"

– "For loving you."

– "Of course I still love you."

– "Yes, I still do."

– "Then come back to me."

– "Okay."

– "And no more wandering around like a stray cat, understand? When I give you milk, you have to drink it all. And when I sing, you better cover your ears and go to sleep, you hear me?"

She pulled a long face:

– "No way..."

He gave her an affectionate glare, mocking her mannerisms:

– "Hey...! So now... are we playing or quitting?"

She stuck out her tongue mischievously.

A moment later:

– "Hehe. Babe..."

– "What else?"

– "Do you still love me?"

– "You know it and yet you ask..."

– "No! Say it out loud..."

– hug :">