Chapter 1 After dating Cole for four years, I thought I was fully integrated into his inner circle. Until the day he took a shower and forgot his phone in the living room. A notification popped up on his screen. It was from a group chat. The group name was “A Happy Life Without Sarah.” Eight members. Cole, his sister, his two childhood best friends, my college roommate, my best friend, and… my own little brother. I stood completely frozen, watching the messages pop up one by one. His sister: “She’s not coming to the barbecue on Saturday, right? The last time she was there, no one could actually relax and have fun.” My best friend, Maya: “Don’t worry, I told her I have to work mandatory overtime. She won’t suspect a thing.” My brother, Leo, replied with a snickering emoji. Cole: “Alright, the usual spot. I’ll make the reservation.” I scrolled up through the chat history. This group had been active for two years and three months. Over seven hundred messages. Every single happy memory they planned was predicated on making sure I wasn’t there. On my birthday last year, the group chat was busy discussing how to split into teams for an escape room that weekend. I had asked Cole why no one was talking to me that day. He told me, “Everyone is just really busy lately.” They were busy, alright. Busy having fun without me. By the time the phone screen went dark, the water in the bathroom had stopped running. Cole walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. Seeing me standing in the living room, he asked casually, “What are you looking at?” “Nothing,” I said. “Just a joke.” He gave a noncommittal “Oh” and took his phone back. I turned, walked into the bedroom, and started packing my suitcase. 01 The sound of the zipper on my suitcase was loud. The bedroom door was wide open. The TV was still playing in the living room. Cole called out from the kitchen, “There’s some watermelon in the fridge, already cut up. Do you want some?” I didn’t answer. He called out again, “Sarah?” “No.” A few seconds of silence followed. He walked over to the bedroom doorway, leaned against the frame, and glanced inside. “What are you packing for? Business trip tomorrow?” “Yeah. Last-minute.” He didn’t ask any more questions. He just turned and walked back to the living room. I heard the familiar click of his phone unlocking. He was probably checking the messages in that group chat. The happy messages that didn’t include me. I shoved three changes of clothes, my skincare routine, chargers, and my ID into the suitcase. After a moment’s hesitation, I opened the nightstand drawer, took out the necklace he had given me, and placed it back into its original velvet box. I didn’t want to take anything that belonged to someone else. Just as I zipped the suitcase shut, my phone buzzed. A text from Maya: “Sarah, I’m so sorry, I got stuck with mandatory overtime this Saturday so we can’t go shopping! Next time, okay?” She added a sad, apologetic emoji at the end. I stared at that line of text for a very long time. While she was typing this to me, was she simultaneously confirming the alibi in that group chat? I replied: “Okay.” Just one, clean word. Early the next morning, I dragged my suitcase out the door. Cole wasn’t awake yet, and I didn’t bother waking him. As I walked downstairs to hail an Uber, my phone rang. It was my little brother, Leo. “Hey sis, Mom said to ask if you’re coming home for dinner this weekend?” “No, I have a business trip.” “Another business trip? Is your company trying to work you to death?” His tone was perfectly light, just like normal. But all I could see in my head was the snickering emoji he had sent in that group chat last night. “Leo.” “Yeah?” “…Never mind.” I hung up and got into the Uber. The driver asked where I was heading, and I gave him the name of a hotel downtown. There was no business trip. I just didn’t want to go back to my parents’ house right now. I booked a room for a week at a hotel not far from my office. After dropping off my luggage, I sat on the edge of the bed and opened Cole’s Instagram. His most recent post was from three days ago—a group photo of him and some friends at a barbecue place, all laughing happily. The photo included his sister Emma, his childhood friends Jake and Matt, my best friend Maya, and my brother Leo. I was the only one missing. I remembered that day. I had asked him what he was doing that night, and he said he was working late. I had even texted him, “Don’t work too hard,” and he had replied with a simple, “Yeah.” It turns out that “Yeah” meant: I am currently hanging out with everyone behind your back, stop bothering me. I tossed my phone onto the mattress and lay back. A tidal wave of exhaustion washed over me. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. A little while later, Cole called. “Did you get there? Which city are you in?” “I’m here.” “Stay safe, don’t go out too late tonight.” “Got it.” “Alright, I’m hanging up then, I’m pretty busy today too.” Busy with what? I wondered. Busy planning the next group activity I’m not invited to? “Okay.” The call ended. I stayed at the hotel for three days, and no one realized I wasn’t actually on a business trip. On the fourth day, Maya asked me out for coffee. She said her overtime was finally over and she wanted to catch up. I agreed. Sitting in the café, she stirred her latte, smiling brightly as she asked, “So, back from your trip? Was it exhausting?” “It was fine.” “Did Cole call you while you were away?” “That guy is so clueless. Without you there, he probably didn’t even bother cooking for himself.” I looked directly into her eyes, searching for even the slightest flicker of guilt. There was none. She was acting so perfectly natural, as if absolutely nothing had happened. “Maya, how late did you have to work on Saturday?” She blinked. “Oh? Until like 9 PM. I was completely dead.” “That sounds exhausting.” “Tell me about it.” She sighed heavily. “I’ll definitely make it up to you next time.” I looked down and took a sip of my black coffee. It was incredibly bitter. But a sugarless Americano was a lot easier to swallow than her lies. On my way back to the hotel, I got a text from Cole: “Are you coming back tomorrow? The sink pipe is leaking a bit, can you call a plumber to look at it?” Four years. When he needed me, I was his roommate, his maid, his handyman. When he didn’t need me, I was the name excluded from the title of a group chat. I replied: “Call the building super.” He replied instantly: “The super takes forever. Just call a plumber and rush them a bit.” I stared at the screen, suddenly feeling how profoundly absurd this all was. Did this guy ever stop to wonder why I wasn’t home? Or did he just completely not care? “Call them yourself.” A long time passed before he finally replied: “Fine.” Not even a single question mark. 02 On the fifth day, I checked out of the hotel and went back to that apartment. Not because I had forgiven him, but because I needed to pack the rest of my things. When I pushed the door open, Cole was sitting on the couch playing video games. He glanced up at me. “You’re back? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have picked you up.” “No need, I just took an Uber.” He gave an “Oh” and his eyes snapped back to the screen. Through his headset, I could hear Jake’s voice shouting, “Cole, pay attention! We gotta win this match!” I dragged my suitcase into the bedroom and started shoving things into my backpack. My passport, my diplomas, my lease agreements, my bank books. The things that truly belonged to me were actually quite few. Halfway through packing, my phone rang. It was Cole’s sister, Emma. I picked up, and her tone was about 30% warmer than usual: “Hey Sarah! Are you coming to the family dinner this weekend? Mom says she hasn’t seen you in forever.” “When was this planned?” “Just yesterday! I completely forgot to tell you.” Forgot? Or did they confirm in the group chat that I would say yes before extending the invitation? “Let me check my schedule.” “Okay, just let me know when you decide.” “Oh, by the way—” She lowered her voice. “Cole is under a lot of pressure at work right now. You need to be a little more understanding. Stop picking fights with him.” I paused. “When have I ever picked a fight with him?” “He said you’ve been ignoring him the last few days, and you didn’t even check in during your business trip.” “Sarah, you guys have been together for four years. You need to take some initiative. Men need to be coaxed sometimes too.” So, in his version of the story, I was the one ignoring him.I was the one who wasn’t trying hard enough. “I understand, Emma.” I hung up and stood in the middle of the bedroom. Suddenly, I didn’t want to leave just yet. Not because I couldn’t bear to let go. But because leaving quietly felt like I was letting them off way too easy. Over seven hundred messages. A group chat active for over two years, where every single message was a discussion on how to exclude me. Did I not even deserve a single explanation? That evening, after Cole finished his game, he saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly. He walked over and kissed my forehead. “What are you thinking about? Want to go out for dinner?” “Cole.” “Yeah?” “Are you hiding anything from me?” He froze for a second, then laughed. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with you today?” “Nothing. Just asking.” “Did you watch some TikTok video telling girls to interrogate their boyfriends? Stop letting the internet brainwash you.” He reached out and ruffled my hair, his tone patronizing, like he was talking to a child. “Let’s go. We’ll get hot pot.” While we were eating hot pot, he got a call and stood up to step outside. I caught a glimpse of his screen as it lit up—it was Jake calling. He walked to the entrance of the restaurant, his back to me, and spoke in a hushed voice. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I saw him laugh. It was a relaxed, completely unburdened laugh. He rarely laughed like that when he was with me. When he came back, he didn’t say a word and just went back to eating. “Who was that?” I asked. “Jake. Asking if I want to play basketball tomorrow.” “Are you going?” “Depends.” I bit down on a piece of beef.Depends. His “depends” translated to: Depends on what the group chat decides. The next day was Saturday. At 9:00 AM, Cole left the apartment, saying he was going to play basketball. I said okay. After he left, I opened the iPad he had left at home. His WhatsApp was still logged in. I found the group chat—”A Happy Life Without Sarah.” The latest messages were from 7:30 this morning. Jake: “Just confirming, Sarah’s not coming to the picnic today, right?” Maya: “Nope, definitely not. I told her yesterday I’m locking myself in my room to write a report.” Leo: “I told my sister I’m going to a friend’s house.” Emma: “Great. Meet at the North Gate of the Botanical Gardens at 2 PM.” Cole had replied with an “OK” emoji. Basketball. He told me he was playing basketball. I set the iPad down and leaned back in the chair. It felt like a heavy weight was crushing my chest. It wasn’t anger. It was a profound, suffocating sadness that I couldn’t even put into words. They had developed a complete, seamless protocol. First, confirm I wouldn’t be there. Then, split up and lie to me individually. Finally, meet up. It was like a highly coordinated military operation, and the only objective was to exclude Sarah. I checked the time. 9:40 AM. There were still over four hours until 2:00 PM. I scrolled through the group chat history for a long time. I scrolled all the way back to Thanksgiving last year. That day, I had waited at home for Cole to come back so we could eat dinner together. At 9:00 PM, he texted me saying a work dinner ran late and he couldn’t leave. The chat history from that day showed they were at Emma’s house making dumplings, and they even FaceTimed my brother. My brother had told me that day, “I’m out with friends, already ate.” Every single lie was coordinated. It was flawless. I logged out of his WhatsApp and put the iPad back exactly where I found it. Then I picked up my phone and texted Cole: “Where are you playing basketball today? Want to grab dinner after?” He replied almost instantly: “Still at the gym. Might be playing late, don’t wait up for me.” I didn’t reply again. He was probably on his way to the Botanical Gardens right now. To join those seven other people and enjoy their “Happy Life Without Sarah.” 03 On Monday, I took half the day off to go to the bank. In four years of dating and two years of living together, Cole and I had never formally separated our finances. The apartment was in his name, but I had paid for half the renovations. I bought two-thirds of the furniture and appliances. He transferred me $500 a month for living expenses, and I covered every other daily cost out of pocket. I printed out the bank statements, highlighted every transaction, and saved the files to my phone. I wasn’t planning on taking him to small claims court. I just needed a record for myself. When I got back to the office in the afternoon, Maya texted me: “Did you not see my message asking you to lunch?””I was in a meeting, didn’t look at my phone.””What about tonight? Dinner after work?””I have plans tonight.””With who?” I didn’t reply. Half a minute later, she texted again: “Being all mysterious… do you have a new friend or something? lol just kidding.” I stared at the “lol” and let my finger hover over the screen. When I first met Maya four years ago, she was ten times more enthusiastic than this. She invited me shopping, brought me into her friend group, introduced me to everyone she knew. I had just moved to the city back then, didn’t have many friends, and thought meeting her was my lucky break. Looking back now, she only got close to me because I was Cole’s girlfriend. And she eventually pushed me out for the exact same reason—because I was the girlfriend who made everyone “unable to relax and have fun.” I didn’t go home after work. I went to a mall and ate a bowl of beef noodle soup in the basement food court. Halfway through my meal, Cole texted me: “Are you coming home for dinner? I made congee.””No, working late.””This busy? Why have you been working so much overtime lately?” I didn’t reply. After finishing my noodles, I walked past a real estate agency. I walked in. “Do you have any one-bedroom apartments near a subway station under $1,500 a month?” The agent handed me a stack of listings. “Miss, are you looking to live alone or with roommates?” “Alone.” “Then I recommend these units, they’re all fully furnished…” I picked two apartments close to my office and scheduled viewings for Wednesday. By the time I left the agency, it was almost 9:00 PM. Cole called me, his tone laced with impatience. “Sarah, what time are you coming home? The congee is completely cold.” “Don’t wait for me, you go ahead and eat.” “What is going on with you the last few days?” “You’re giving me one-word answers, and you’re coming home later and later.” “What do you mean, what’s going on with me?” “You tell me,” he sighed. “I think something’s really off with your mood lately.” “My mood is the same as it’s always been.” “Fine. Whatever makes you happy.” He hung up.Whatever makes you happy. When he said that, he definitely thought he was being the bigger person. So accommodating, so understanding. But I wanted to ask him: Do you know why my mood is off?Have you spent even a single second considering that maybe it’s your fault? After viewing the apartments on Wednesday, I signed a lease on the spot. First month’s rent plus a security deposit. The landlord wanted me to move in by the end of the month, which was perfect timing. I had two weeks to prepare. Two weeks to completely erase myself from Cole’s life. On Thursday afternoon, I was at my desk organizing handover files—I was also preparing to change jobs. My phone buzzed. A voice memo from my brother, Leo. “Hey sis, are you coming to my birthday party next week?””Where is it?””At Cole’s place. He said he’s going to cook a huge dinner.” I bit my lip.”Who’s coming?””Just the usual crew. Jake and them, and Maya.” The usual crew. The eight people in that group chat. My brother’s birthday party was going to be held at my boyfriend’s apartment. And the guest list was composed entirely of the people who actively excluded me. And the only reason he was inviting me was because, technically, it was my apartment too. “I have something going on, I might not be able to make it.””What? Sis, what’s so important?””I only have a birthday once a year.””Leo, let me ask you something.””Yeah?””When did you and Cole get so close?” He paused for two seconds, then laughed. “We’ve always been close! He’s my future brother-in-law.” Brother-in-law. We weren’t even married yet, and he was already calling him that. “Okay. I’ll try my best to be there.” I hung up, buried my face in my arms on the desk, and closed my eyes for a long time. Nineteen-year-old Leo, happily coordinating with everyone in a group chat to lie to my face. He was the brother I practically raised myself. When our parents got divorced, he was twelve, and he lived with me for three whole years. I worked two jobs to put him through high school. I took him to amusement parks during the summer. I bought him new winter coats. When did he start thinking of me as someone who needed to be excluded? Did Cole plant the idea? Or did they all just feed off each other? Or maybe it had always been like this, and I was just the only one who didn’t know.
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