After Reading My Boyfriend’s Mind, I Dumped Him for Good Chapter 12
Atticus’s fingers trembled slightly.
“Please…” His voice cracked. “Please don’t hate me anymore.”
I almost laughed from sheer disbelief.
“Seriously?” I stared at him. “Who hates who here, exactly?”
Drunk Atticus clearly couldn’t process anything complicated. He frowned, confused, and came to his own
conclusion.
“You hate me.” His eyes reddened further. “Cecilia hates Atticus now. You like someone else.”
The audacity of that accusation was almost impressive.
I reached out and placed a hand on his forehead.
“Honestly, Atticus, you should get your head checked. You might actually be an idiot.”
But being called an idiot didn’t seem to bother him at all.
The second my hand made contact, his eyes lit up.
“You touched me.” His voice went soft. “Cece, you’re touching me again.”
I immediately withdrew my hand and frowned.
Every time he got drunk, he became a completely different person.
It was practically a split personality.
“Touch me again.” He looked at me, careful and almost timid, the corners of his eyes red.
“You haven’t touched me in so long.” He lowered his head. “Ever since you started liking Jake, you stopped.”
I nearly choked. “When did I ever say I liked Jake?”
At this point, I was beginning to suspect there had been some massive misunderstanding between us.
But there wasn’t much point arguing with a drunk person. Especially a drunk person hooked up to an IV.
I stood up, intending to leave.
Before I could take a step, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around my waist.
Atticus was shaking all over.
The unnatural heat radiating from his body seeped through my clothes.
“Don’t go.” His voice shook. “Don’t leave me. Do you not want me anymore? I only have you.”
I was trapped. Speechless, I sat back down.
That’s when I noticed tears welling up in his eyes.
“Last night, I went to find you.” His voice was quiet.
“You wouldn’t pick up. You said you wanted to break up.”
“So I thought-maybe if I waited outside your place, you’d come out to take out the trash, and I could talk to
you.” He looked genuinely wronged.
I hadn’t expected Atticus to be that… bored.
“But does your family never take out the trash?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.
“I sat on that bench outside your place all night. You never came out.”
I stared at him.
“Then I caught a cold.” He sniffled. “Didn’t want to get you sick, so I went home and took meds.”
“Then tonight-I heard Jake put together that whole thing because he wanted to confess to you.”
“So I rushed over. Forgot about the medicine.”
His voice grew smaller. “Scared you. I’m sorry.”
I genuinely hadn’t realized so much had happened in a single day.
Then one sentence caught my attention.
“What’s it to you if I date Jake?” I looked directly at him. “You don’t even like me.”
Atticus got worked up instantly. He jerked so suddenly he almost yanked out his IV.
“I do like you.” He looked at me desperately.
“I like you. I like you the most.” His voice shook.
“You’re my girlfriend. You’re the only person I like in this entire world.”
The word only hit me unexpectedly hard.
A familiar ache spread through my chest.
I remembered the last time he was drunk.
He’d held me and repeated it like a broken record. “You’re my only one. My one and only.”
That was why I never cared what anyone said-that it was one-sided, that I was the one in love.
I’d seen the way he looked at me. I’d heard him say I was his only one. I’d believed it.
Then those thoughts showed up. And shattered all of it.
I stared at Atticus’s face.
Then I asked the question that had haunted me from the beginning.
