My boyfriend, Leo, bailed on my birthday dinner again—this time for his assistant, Chloe. That same day, I quietly submitted an application for a three-year international secondment. He happened to see my application form, but just smirked indifferently. “Trying to get jealous again with these childish tricks? Can you stop being so immature?” He tore up the application, then acted like he was doing me a huge favor by offering to take wedding photos to “make it right.” But it was too late. By the day of the photoshoot, I was already on a plane out of the country. Apparently, the usually calm and composed Leo went completely berserk, wearing his groom’s suit at the airport, frantically calling out my name over and over. “Anya, I can’t believe you’d pull such a childish prank. If Sarah from HR hadn’t clued me in, I might’ve actually bought into this.” “Don’t you get it? People who really want to leave don’t make a big production out of it.” Leo scoffed, ripping the international secondment application into pieces and tossing it in the trash without a second thought. I just stayed quiet, feeling this weird sense of calm wash over me. Tearing it up didn’t matter—the position was already confirmed. He’d actually signed off on it himself just last night. But he was probably too busy having dinner with his assistant, Chloe, to even notice. After all, when he’s with Chloe, she’s the only one who exists. Sarah meant well, I guess—probably thought she was helping by telling him. He thought I was using this as some kind of threat, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. I’d stayed in this city all these years because he wanted me to, passing up countless international opportunities. Now that his heart clearly belonged to someone else, I wasn’t about to just stick around, wasting away beside him anymore. I was about to say something when there was a knock at the front door. Leo didn’t even look at me, just turned to answer it. “Leo.” Chloe stood in the doorway, smiling sweetly as she greeted him. Her gaze shifted to me, and her smile got even sweeter: “Oh, Anya’s here too. My mistake—I wouldn’t have come up if I’d known. Don’t want Anya getting the wrong idea again.” Her tone sounded sincere, but I could still pick up that unmistakable hint of provocation in her words. Right—in the past, after catching him in inappropriate situations with her, I’d argued with him nonstop. But every time, he’d brush me off and keep doing whatever he wanted. The worst was when he spent the night at her place. I couldn’t help confronting him, but Leo slapped me, called me delusional, and made me apologize to both of them in front of everyone. That was the last straw. I finally gave up and stopped caring—but he and Chloe just thought I’d finally learned my lesson, like my previous reactions were just some silly rebellious phase I’d grown out of. I tuned them out and turned to head back to my room. But Leo—unusually—stopped me, his voice lower: “Chloe’s parents are visiting in a few days. She’s worried her apartment’s too small and might make them anxious, so I’m helping her fix it up.” “You know how these young girls are—they can’t really handle things on their own. I just try to help out when I can.” I was a little taken aback. It hit me then, a little late, that Leo was actually *explaining* himself to me. He never used to do that. Back then, I’d have to badger him for answers, only to get eye rolls and attitude in return. But now? I couldn’t care less what they did. “Oh,” I said with a shrug. I almost told him to be careful, but figured he wouldn’t appreciate the advice, so I bit back the words. “Anya, why don’t you come with us? That way you won’t have to worry,” Chloe suggested, her voice dripping with sweetness. I looked at her sugary smile and knew she was doing it on purpose. She’d pulled this move before, and every time it just made Leo more annoyed with me. Even though I didn’t give a damn what Leo thought anymore, I was leaving soon and didn’t feel like dealing with the drama. I was about to say no when, surprisingly, Leo hesitated for a second and then nodded. Chloe’s smile faltered for a split second before she fixed it back in place. Leo said, “Yeah, that works. You can help carry stuff—we’re getting so much, Chloe can’t handle it alone.” I couldn’t help but find it funny—the predictable “of course” moment playing out in my head. “No thanks. I’ve got plans. You two go ahead,” I replied flatly, no emotion in my voice. Leo didn’t care. He gave me a dismissive look, muttered, “Offering you a chance, but you’re just being difficult,” and left with Chloe. Chloe had this triumphant little smirk on her face. As they left, she even waved: “Anya, I’ll be keeping Leo busy for a while!” Her words were obviously meant to get under my skin. But Leo didn’t seem to notice, casually slinging his arm around Chloe’s shoulders like it was the most natural thing. He joked around with her, asking how she planned to treat him to dinner after all his help. Their little display of affection didn’t even register with me anymore. I’d seen this coming ever since Chloe first joined the company. Leo bent all the rules to hire her, then made her his assistant. For two years, she messed up constantly, costing the company millions—but every single time, Leo pointed the blame straight at me. I finally snapped and argued with him, but he just made excuses. “Anya, can’t you see she’s just like you were when you started out?” “You worked so hard to get where you are now. Shouldn’t you help a young talent with so much potential?” That’s when I realized—anything I said after that wouldn’t matter. Leo had already checked out of our relationship. Ding. My phone buzzed. I opened it to a message from HR. [International secondment roster confirmed. Please report as scheduled in three days.]
The message included a list of important instructions. I read through them carefully, then started packing up my apartment. I pulled out my custom guitar—stashed away for years—and strummed it. Still in perfect tune. Leo knew how much music meant to me; it’s how we first connected. Back then, I’d play his favorite songs for him, and we’d travel together. But as time went on, life got busy and stressful. Leo stopped enjoying my playing, so I put the guitar away and focused on work. Later, when things got more comfortable financially, he just kept pulling further away from me. I once suggested we take a trip together, and he got all annoyed. “Anya, how old are you? Can you stop acting like a kid? Why don’t you focus on your career?” But then I found out he and Chloe were using business trips as excuses to hit up arcades, play games at internet cafes, and take scenic boat rides. So it wasn’t that he thought we were too old for fun. He just thought I was too old for his fun. I dug out all my old instruments and called a friend who’d always wanted them. When he heard I was giving them to him, he sounded shocked: “For real? I offered you good money before and you wouldn’t sell. What changed your mind?” I kept it simple: “I’m moving abroad. Can’t take them with me.” “Abroad?” He sounded surprised. “With Leo?” “No, just me.” I told him about the international secondment briefly. He still seemed confused, but finally suggested we get dinner to catch up. I said sure. After we hung up, I kept packing. The photo wall Leo always wanted to take down, the silly pottery we made together that he called childish, the two-seater couch, our matching rings… Before I knew it, it was evening. Leo still wasn’t home. I didn’t do the usual—making dinner and waiting, wondering when he’d walk through the door. Instead, I grabbed my bag and headed out to meet my friend. There were three or four of us—we hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, so they were pretty surprised to see me. “Have you lost weight? You look skinnier than the last time I saw you.” I smiled and didn’t say anything. After a few drinks, everyone was feeling tipsy and talking freely. When my upcoming move came up, one of my drunk friends got really worked up on my behalf. “Anya, I’ve been wanting to say this forever—you should’ve left Leo ages ago! Look at you now, he’s totally messed you up!” “If he hadn’t stolen your research, you’d be way more successful than you are now. He wouldn’t even have a job at your company! All these years, your friends tried to tell you, but you just wouldn’t listen.” The others tried to hush him up quickly. “He’s had too much to drink—don’t take it personally,” one friend said, covering his mouth. I knew why he was reacting like that. After all, the old me would’ve defended Leo no matter what. We’d drifted apart because they once confronted Leo in front of me. Back then, I got mad and stormed off because I didn’t believe them. But that incident was actually what made me realize—suddenly—how Leo had been manipulating me all along. “It’s fine. Leo and I are breaking up anyway.” When I said that, everyone looked shocked. I raised my glass: “Thanks for trying to warn me. I’ll drink to that first.” My friends were worried I was heartbroken and tried to comfort me at first, but they relaxed when they saw how calm I was. After we said goodbye, I went home. I took out my key and was about to unlock the door when it opened from the inside. Leo was standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall, his tall frame rigid. He looked a little upset.
“You went out drinking?” “I called you so many times—why didn’t you answer?” I pulled out my phone and saw he had indeed called repeatedly. The restaurant must have been too loud for me to hear. I told him the truth. His expression softened slightly, though he still looked annoyed. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?” “Get in here and make me something to eat. I’m starving.” I was a little surprised. In the past, whenever he went out with Chloe, he’d tell me to wait up, but they’d always end up eating out. I’d wait until late, my carefully made dinner getting cold, then reheated, then cold again. Eating that cold food alone, my heart would grow colder too. But when I complained, he’d get annoyed: “Why are you even waiting? I’m not a kid—I can feed myself.” Snapping back to the present, I smiled: “You’re not a kid, Leo. If you’re hungry, fend for yourself.” “If I have to fend for myself, what good are you?” Leo scoffed. But maybe he was in a good mood from his afternoon, because he let it go. “Fine, since you’ve been drinking, I won’t make you cook a whole meal.” “Just make some of that soothing porridge.” “Chloe’s stomach is acting up again. The medicine isn’t helping, and I remember that porridge you used to make worked really well. Make some now.” That’s when it hit me—why he’d actually come home. He used to have a sensitive stomach, so I took a special class to learn how to make that soothing porridge. I even researched ways to improve the texture and flavor to make it more appetizing for him. I learned it to take care of *him*, not to be some free cook making porridge for another woman. I couldn’t help but scoff: “I can’t do that.” “If she’s sick, she should see a doctor. What if something happens after she eats it? Who’s going to take the blame then?” I used to pack Leo’s lunch every day, but then he started sharing it with Chloe. One afternoon, Chloe felt sick—obviously from staying up too late—but Leo blamed me. He said my food wasn’t clean and docked my bonus to compensate her, citing some work mistake. Leo must have remembered that incident too, because he looked a little awkward. He started to say something else, but I walked past him straight into the bedroom. Leo followed right behind: “Anya, come on. Are you still mad about earlier with Chloe?” “Just say what’s bothering you. Why are you being so difficult?” It was always the same. When he couldn’t argue his way out, he’d accuse me of overreacting and refusing to communicate. But I’d tried to talk to him seriously so many times, and every time he’d get mad, call me unreasonable, and shut down the conversation. As he tried to follow me into the room, I locked the door. That really set Leo off—he started banging on the door. I ignored him, got ready for bed, and went to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night thirsty. When I got up for water, I noticed my phone light up. I checked it and saw Chloe had sent me some messages. [Anya, Leo’s at my place right now. My stomach was acting up, so he came over to take care of me.] There were a few photos attached. The background was Chloe’s apartment. Leo was in loungewear with an apron on, standing in her kitchen, looking totally focused. That’s when I realized Leo hadn’t stayed home—he’d gone to take care of Chloe in the middle of the night. I used to wait on him hand and foot, never letting him lift a finger in the kitchen, and now he was doing all that for another woman. I almost laughed. I knew Chloe sent those messages to get a rise out of me. She’d done this kind of thing a million times before. But it didn’t matter anymore. In two days, I’d be out of their lives for good. I turned off my phone and went back to sleep, dozing off right away. The next morning, Leo was home. He was sitting on the couch with his tablet, looking worn out from pulling an all-nighter. He used to look like this after staying up late chatting with Chloe, and I’d worry about him automatically—only for him to get mad and say I was starting fights. I wasn’t in the mood for his attitude, so I pretended not to notice. After getting ready, I gave him a half-hearted good morning. He seemed distracted though, muttering to himself: “Why does the house feel… empty?” I didn’t say a word. All the stuff I’d gotten rid of was things he’d never cared about anyway. He could feel something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. I ignored him and started to head out when Leo called after me. “Anya, why is there a plane ticket charge on our joint account?” That’s when it clicked. I was still logged into the home tablet, so he could see my recent purchases. I paused, about to answer, when his phone rang. Leo checked the caller ID and his face lit up. He got up and went into the bedroom to take the call. He completely forgot about confronting me. I scoffed to myself—same old story. A few minutes later, he hung up and came out of the bedroom, grabbing his jacket from the hook. He ordered me: “Chloe’s parents are in town. I need to pick them up. Call the office and tell them we’re taking the day off.” I smiled: “I’m not going to the office today. I’m leaving for my international secondment tomorrow—that ticket is for my flight.”
At that, Leo froze while tying his shoe. After a second, he seemed to snap out of it and burst out laughing. “What kind of joke is this? I already tore up your application—there is no secondment.” I started to explain, but Leo’s tone turned icy. “Anya, I know what you’re doing. One little stunt was bad enough, but now you’re doubling down? I’m not going to put up with this.” “I have to admit, you went all out this time—buying a real plane ticket to trick me.” I didn’t say anything. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that I might actually leave him, so no amount of proof would change his mind. So why waste my time trying? But my silence just made Leo think he was right—like I’d been caught red-handed. That just made him more sure I was faking it to get attention. He let out a cold snort, grabbed his bag, and headed for the door. He took a few steps, then stopped like he just remembered something. He turned back to me with a sigh, like I was being unreasonable. “Anya, I get why you’re acting like this, but I really have to go. I promised Chloe two days ago—I can’t cancel on her now.” “After today, I’ll cut back on time with her, I promise.” “You want to get married, right? Once this is over, we’ll book the wedding photos tomorrow. We can start planning everything, okay?” As he talked, he reached out to pat my head. Like I was some obedient little pet. It was almost funny. He said he couldn’t break a promise, but he’d stood me up countless times for Chloe—left me waiting alone more times than I could count. He said he’d cut back on time with her, but we’d made that deal before. He broke it every single time. His go-to move was always promising wedding photos. I fell for it every time. And got disappointed every time. He thought this little game—hurting me, then dangling something nice—would work forever. But he didn’t get that it only worked because I still cared. Now that I didn’t love him anymore, all those promises just sounded ridiculous. But I didn’t call him out. I just nodded: “Okay.” Leo looked satisfied, a big smile spreading across his face. “Stay home and be good. I’ll book the appointment now—we’ll do the wedding photos tomorrow.” With that, he headed downstairs. I watched him round the corner, then went back to my room and started throwing all my leftover things down the trash chute. Soon the room was so empty, it was like I’d never lived there. As soon as Leo got home, he’d figure it out. But he didn’t come home. All night, Leo texted me photos: selfies with Chloe and her parents,landscape photo, and pictures of the restaurant where they were eating. He even mentioned some places had great backdrops for wedding photos. I had no idea what he was playing at. But I played along anyway. It was the last time, after all. I’d probably never talk to him again after this. The next morning, I texted Leo to get some rest, then grabbed my suitcase and took a taxi to the airport. Right before boarding, the wedding photography studio called to confirm our session. I hadn’t expected Leo to actually follow through. But I didn’t care anymore. “I’m sorry, but we need to cancel.” I apologized and hung up. I took one last look at the city I’d called home for five years. This time, I didn’t hesitate—I walked straight onto the jet bridge. Leo and I were done. I couldn’t help wondering what his face would look like when he realized *he* was the one getting stood up.
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