Sloane said she couldn’t come to dinner with me. But an hour later, she walked into the same restaurant, standing right beside him. She tried to sit next to me like nothing was wrong. Aiden gave me a quiet, satisfied smile, as if he’d already won. Sloane kept sending excuses and half-apologies, expecting me to melt the way I always did. But I didn’t. That night, I finally stopped being predictable— and decided to walk away from her for good. I sat at the table, watching the food grow cold, much like my heart. Today was my birthday, but it was also the birthday of Aiden, Sloane’s childhood friend. I opened Aiden’s Instagram and saw a new post. “Grateful to have you by my side every birthday. Let’s keep celebrating together for years to come!” The photo showed two hands making a heart shape in front of a cake. One of them was Sloane’s, wearing the necklace I had given her. I liked the post, then put down my phone and dumped all of Sloane’s favorite dishes I had prepared into the trash. I went out to a restaurant to order my own favorites and celebrate my birthday alone. From now on, I would make each of my birthdays special – for myself. Halfway through my meal, Sloane called. Her voice held a hint of anxiety: “Grant, did you see Aiden’s Instagram post?” “I did.” “I’ll be back after celebrating with him. I’ll spend next year’s birthday with you, okay? Don’t be upset!” In the past, I would have thrown a fit, but not anymore. I simply replied, “Okay.” The next morning, around 7 AM, I was woken up by my phone ringing. It rang three times before cutting off. I checked – it was Sloane. She used to be too lazy to use her key, so she’d always call me to let her in, ringing three times before hanging up. No matter what I was doing, I would rush to open the door for her. Today, I didn’t. I tossed my phone aside and went back to sleep. The spare key was under the shoe rack by the door. She knew that. I had been up until 3 AM packing, and my head was still fuzzy. My phone rang a few more times, but I couldn’t be bothered to look. Some time later, I vaguely heard someone unlocking the door and coming in. The door slammed against the wall loudly, followed by my bedroom door being flung open and Sloane’s angry voice. “Grant, why didn’t you open the door for me? I called several times! You know I hate using keys!” I opened my eyes and looked at her impassively. “Too tired. Didn’t hear it.” Sloane opened her mouth, then closed it. Finally, she said, “I’m hungry. Get up and make me a sandwich. I didn’t sleep all night, and I need to catch up on some rest after I eat.” In the past, I would have jumped up to make her breakfast. But now, I just said flatly, “I’m tired too. Why don’t you go downstairs and buy something?” Sloane was furious but tried to control herself. “Are you still mad about me not being here for your birthday yesterday?” “No, you’re overthinking it.” Sloane didn’t believe me. She continued, “Aiden is like a brother to me. His parents passed away when he was young. If I don’t celebrate his birthday with him, who will? Don’t be so petty, or I’ll really get angry!” “You’re right. You should celebrate with him. I’m not upset.” I got up to go to the bathroom. Sloane grabbed my hand and reluctantly pulled out a red string bracelet from her pocket. “Here, don’t be mad. This is your birthday gift. See? I remembered.” Looking at the cheap red string with its dangling metal charm, which seemed so carelessly chosen, and thinking of the expensive watch Aiden had shown off on Instagram, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I had thought Sloane’s recent frugality was to save up for my birthday gift. Apparently, I had been deluding myself. I shook my wrist, showing the watch my mom had sent me a few days ago. “Thanks, but I already have a watch. It’s not convenient to wear this. You keep it.” Sloane snapped, “You say you’re not angry, but you used to be happy with whatever I gave you. Are you getting picky now?” Sloane’s salary wasn’t high. Her birthday gifts to me were always cheap, costing a few dollars or tens of dollars at most. Sometimes she even forgot to give me anything. But I never minded. For her birthdays, I always prepared thoughtful gifts. Just a week ago, for her birthday, I had given her a gold necklace. I was tired. I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. I took the red string and put it in my pocket. “Thank you.” I changed my clothes and opened the door. Sloane called out anxiously, “Where are you going?” “To play basketball with friends.” Since getting together with Sloane, all my free time belonged to her. I accompanied her everywhere, took care of her, and had no time left for myself. That wouldn’t be the case anymore. I needed to live for myself now.
After an exhilarating game with my friends, we sat on the benches by the court, drinking water. My friends joked, “We thought you’d forgotten about us since you got a girlfriend. We were about to stop inviting you out.” I apologized and promised, “I’m sorry, guys. It won’t happen again. Count me in for any future plans.” “That’s more like it! Come on, let’s go to the internet cafe and play some games.” When I was with Sloane, I couldn’t fit into her Instagram world, but I had slowly distanced myself from my own friends for her sake. I revolved my life around her, prioritizing her above all else. Looking back, I realized how foolish I had been. When I got home, it was almost midnight. I opened the bedroom door to find Sloane sitting on the bed. She frowned and said, “Grant, why are you back so late? I had to order takeout for lunch and dinner. It was awful.” I opened the closet to get some clean clothes. “I ate at restaurants today too. The food was pretty good, not worse than home-cooked meals.” Sloane stared at me in surprise. “You used to say you’d cook for me every day and that I shouldn’t eat takeout because it’s unhygienic!” “I was wrong. Living in this society, if you can’t cook, you have to get used to takeout food.” A flash of anger crossed Sloane’s eyes. “You say you’re not angry, but you’ve been out all day without a single call or message, and you didn’t come home to cook for me!” I replied calmly, “I’m not angry. I was just hanging out with friends. My phone died, so I couldn’t call.” Seeing my attitude, Sloane suddenly threw off the covers and got out of bed angrily. She grabbed me as I was about to leave, her voice shrill. “Can’t you be more understanding? I’ve told you we’re just like siblings! What are you still upset about? Grant, my patience has limits!” I shook off her hand. “I’m really not upset. I’m tired. I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” With that, I took my clothes and went to the bathroom to shower, ignoring Sloane’s calls from inside the bedroom. That night, I slept soundly for the first time in a long while. Sloane was a restless sleeper, kicking off the covers several times a night. When we slept together, I never got a full night’s rest, having to get up multiple times to cover her. Early the next morning, Sloane sat in the living room with her arms crossed, her face dark with anger. I knew she was waiting for me to apologize first and make her happy. In the past, whenever she was unhappy, I would beg for her forgiveness, even if I didn’t think I had done anything wrong. Then she would list a bunch of conditions, and only after I had fulfilled them all would she reluctantly forgive me. This had been the pattern for years, and I was tired of it. I ignored her, got ready, and left. I had important things to do today.
I went to the office to submit my resignation letter. My manager was surprised and tried to persuade me to stay, but I insisted on leaving. I had originally taken this job to be close to Sloane, to take care of her. But now, that was no longer necessary. Last night, I had a video call with my parents, telling them I was planning to quit my job and return home. I saw the tears of joy in my mom’s eyes. My dad’s health hasn’t been good lately, and he’s been struggling to run the small supermarket by himself. When I say “home,” it’s not some remote village, but a coastal city. Sloane had always refused to go back with me, saying she wasn’t used to the food there. So I left my parents to find work here with her. That evening, I met up with my friends for dinner and told them the news. They all agreed that going back was the right decision, as my parents’ health was more important. After a few drinks, someone suddenly asked, “What about Sloane? Is she willing to go back with you now?” I was silent for a moment, then smiled bitterly. “No, we’ll probably break up.” I used to think I could build a home here with Sloane, and then bring my parents over later. But now that home was gone, and I was returning to the one with my parents – the one that would never abandon me. When I got back home, I saw Sloane wearing a white dress, her black hair flowing loose, face perfectly made up, video chatting with Aiden on her phone. Aiden’s voice came through the speaker: “Snow, you look absolutely gorgeous. Even in a simple white dress, you look like a fairy!” Sloane giggled, covering her face coyly. “Really? You’re still such a sweet talker.” I stood there silently. This “simple” white dress had cost me a month’s salary when I bought it for her. Sloane turned around, still smiling, but her face fell when she saw me. She quickly told Aiden, “I have to go now. I’ll be there soon. Have a snack while you wait.” Sloane could be all smiles and care for Aiden, but she couldn’t even spare a smile for me. She looked at me with disgust, then walked past me to put on her shoes and leave. She was starting her cold treatment again. In the years we’ve been together, she often gave me the silent treatment over issues related to Aiden. Each time, I would be anxious, trying everything to please her. This time, I wasn’t nervous. I just took the groceries I had bought and went to the kitchen to make myself a late-night snack. I had been drinking with my friends earlier and hadn’t eaten much, so I was a bit hungry now. Over the next few days, I was busy handing over my work and packing my belongings. My things in the house were gradually disappearing, but Sloane didn’t notice.
Today, Sloane went out again to meet Aiden. I sat at the dining table, scrolling through my phone while eating. Aiden had posted on Instagram: “Whenever I feel lonely, you’re always there for me. I’m so grateful!” The photo showed Sloane and Aiden with their heads together, making peace signs at the camera. Sloane’s girlfriends were all commenting, admiring their relationship. They had always thought Sloane should be with Aiden, and that I was the third wheel interfering in their relationship. Looking at that Instagram post, I suddenly felt that Sloane’s friends weren’t wrong – they did look more like a couple. In the past, after enduring silently for a long time, I would gently remind Sloane to keep some distance from Aiden to avoid misunderstandings. Her friends would then mock me for being too controlling, saying I was suffocating Sloane and not giving her any freedom to have friends. Sloane never defended me. Instead, she joined them in criticizing me, telling me not to restrict her and to give her more freedom. Sloane had commented: “You’re always there for me too!” I exited Instagram without a ripple in my heart and got up to clear the table. Thunder rumbled outside. It was about to rain. I went to the balcony to bring in the laundry, and large raindrops began hitting the windows. In the past, whenever it rained, I would anxiously call Sloane to ask where she was and rush out with an umbrella to pick her up, afraid she might get even slightly wet. She and her friends would then laugh at me for being like an old woman, worrying too much and ruining their fun. I showered early and lay in bed scrolling through short videos, eventually falling asleep without realizing it. The sound of Sloane forcefully pushing open my bedroom door woke me up. Seeing that I was sleeping, she angrily questioned me. “Grant, it’s pouring outside, and your girlfriend isn’t home yet. Aren’t you worried at all? If it were my friends’ boyfriends, they’d be calling non-stop asking where they are and rushing out with umbrellas to pick them up! What about you?!”
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