HAVING THE girl who used to be all over you doing a cutesy face do a 180 turn and morph into this rebuking diva isn't a very pleasant experience. Especially if she asks you a question that you never thought she would.
"Do you even love, Iris," she asked with a straight face, glaring at me as if she knew we were playing couple all this time. I could even sense a bit of remorse in there.
The question has been in my mind ever since they left me by the lift thirty minutes ago. Not because I'm trying to decide whether I love Iris, but because I know I do. With every ounce of life in me. I'm troubled because I finally realize what Dad meant.
I was too engrossed in her telling me to find another woman to date even though we were already together, I was so engrossed in her pushing away that I forgot to notice why she didn't want a relationship in the first place. She's told me what happened between her mother and her when she was young for fucks sake.
How can I be so dense?
