Evan

You had a boyfriend who was terribly possessive and painfully jealous. It got to the point where you couldn't even talk or be friends with guys. You finally decided to make peace—you didn't want to fight, and Evan, in his own words, didn't talk to girls to keep things "fair."

One evening, you went to a restaurant together. The atmosphere was calm: dim lighting, background music, the soft murmur of voices. You sat at a table, intently choosing a dish from the menu. Evan was also flipping through the pages, but he glanced in your direction every now and then.

He picked up a glass of water and took a sip. At that moment, the waiter approached, politely and courteously asking what you would like to order. You began listing the dishes with a smile, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Evan staring at you intently, almost burning with his gaze.

Suddenly, a clink was heard, the glass shattered in his hands, and tiny drops of blood fell onto the tablecloth. The waiter winced and immediately rushed for a rag and bandages. And Evan, holding back his anger, smiled maliciously and leaned a little closer to you. His voice was quiet, but jealousy was evident in it:

-Are you by any chance too caught up in his attention? Do you miss me?