Who’s the Dog Now? novel Chapter 34

Patricia said, “Zebulon is going to regret this big time!”

Naomi pressed her lips together. She wanted to say, “It has nothing to do with Zebulon anymore,” but felt that emphasizing it would just make it seem like she still cared. In the end, she said nothing.

Patricia didn't bring up Zebulon again. They chatted for a while, and soon, Naomi started receiving messages from her friends and relatives.

Patricia leaned over to look and saw that most of the messages were affectionate things like, ‘Thank you, Naomi.’ This made her even more curious. After holding it in for a while, she finally had to ask, “Naomi, it’s not like you’re starved for affection. So many people love and care about you. Why did you chase after Zebulon for so long?”

It would make sense if he treated you well, but he was always awful to you!

“Well...” Naomi thought back to the earthquake all those years ago, to the voice that had whispered in her ear, telling her to hold on. She shook her head with a wry smile.

“He had his good moments. He’s probably just forgotten them.”

Patricia gave her a puzzled look. She wanted to ask more, but seeing that Naomi didn’t seem to want to talk about it, she let it go.

“Man, I’m exhausted. Let’s get some sleep. We have an early class tomorrow.”

Naomi hummed in agreement. Just as she was about to get ready for bed, her phone buzzed.

She picked it up and saw a message from Zebulon, sent from a new number.

[So you bought gifts for everyone but me? How can you be so childish, Naomi? Fine, fine. We’ll just see how long you can keep this up!]

Naomi stared at the message for a long moment before expressionlessly deleting it and putting her phone down to go wash up.

Warm water sprayed from the showerhead, washing away some of the coldness in Naomi’s heart.

Zebulon, oh Zebulon. After everything you did to me, what makes you think I’m just angry at you?

She was a person, not a machine. Her heart was already riddled with holes from all the years she spent chasing him.

In his off-campus apartment, Zebulon, fresh from a shower, had a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his wet hair. He scrubbed his head haphazardly with another towel before eagerly sitting on the sofa and checking his phone for new messages.

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