One Extra

The first time I noticed her was at the convenience store. I bought a rice ball that day, and she was standing next to me, looking at the last strawberry milk on the shelf. Just as I was about to hand it to her, she reached out first. "You want it too?" "I was going to buy it." She thought for a moment and handed the milk to me. "Here, you can have it." "Didn't you want to drink it?" "It's okay." After that, we started having lunch together. She would always grab an extra drink when buying beverages, and I would always bring an extra portion when buying breakfast. Then one day, looking at the two breakfast portions on the table, she suddenly asked: "Do you always buy an extra one on purpose?" I was taken aback for a moment. "Aren't you the same?" She was silent for a few seconds, then lowered her head and smiled. "I thought you just couldn't finish it." "I thought the same thing." She smiled even wider. "Then we don't have to pretend anymore." "Pretend what?" She picked up one of the breakfast portions and pushed it towards me. "Why don't we just say we want to eat together?" I looked at her and couldn't help but smile. "Okay." The next morning, I bought only one breakfast. She looked at her empty other hand and deliberately frowned. "Why did you only buy one today?" I split the breakfast in half. "Because from now on, we only need to buy one." <Liking someone isn't about always preparing an extra portion, but about later habitually sharing your own portion with them.>