Julian treated “breakup” like his trump card. He always won. Any time we hit a rough patch, he’d throw those words at me. I was always the one swallowing my pride to fix us. Then, I saw it on his laptop. A round-trip flight confirmation to Seattle. His ex-wife lived there. I confronted him with the silent evidence. Offended impatience filled his face. “Isabella is doing poorly. I’m heading to the West Coast for work anyway. Just stopping by to see her.” He didn’t even bother to close the laptop. “If you can’t even trust me, maybe we should break up.” The flight details stared back at me. Then I looked at the man I’d loved for three years. A long silence followed. “Fine. I agree. Let’s break up.” … Julian’s movements froze. He clearly didn’t expect my agreement. An indifferent glance flickered my way. Then he simply returned to his files. “Suit yourself.” I closed his laptop gently. Then I walked out of the study. Outside the door, I closed my eyes. My heart throbbed with pain. Julian didn’t come to the bedroom that night. I knew he was waiting. He thought I’d push open the study door like always, wearing that same practiced smile. But I was done being the clown. The next morning, I carried my suitcase downstairs. Julian was on a call. He saw me and spoke quickly into the phone. “Okay, see you the day after tomorrow.” Julian hung up in a hurry. I knew it was Isabella on the other end. Julian looked at my suitcase, then my face. His brow furrowed deeply. “Where are you going?” “Moving out.”
“Moving out?” He smirked. “When are you coming back?” I ignored his contemptuous tone. “I’m not coming back.” Impatience nearly overflowed from his face. “Clara, knock it off. Seriously? It was just a quick stop to see her. You’re really blowing this up into something it’s not.” I looked up and watched him silently for a long time. “It is.” It wasn’t just one ticket. Unwavering monthly records filled his account. The orders were dense. Every single trip was to see Isabella. I wasn’t throwing a fit. I just realized there was nothing left worth saving. Julian frowned. “Since when are you so petty?” Maybe I was. “Yes, Julian. I’m petty.” I looked straight into his eyes. My voice was firmer than ever. “That’s why I agreed to the breakup.” Last night, Julian didn’t take me seriously. He was sure I couldn’t let go. For three years, I was always the one chasing after him, always the one giving in. He was used to my obedience, used to me letting everything slide. Even my friends thought I was wasting myself on him. Friends said I was hell-bent on clinging to a man who didn’t deserve me. Julian’s face darkened completely. He let out a cold laugh. “Fine. If you’re set on it, we’re done.” I moved out of the Upper East Side apartment. Julian didn’t contact me. He never reached out first. I visited him once after the Seattle trip. My arrival didn’t surprise him. The situation was entirely under his control, or so he thought. I would return and bow after my so-called tantrums. Leaning against the door, he waited for me to coax him. Instead, I slid the engagement ring off my finger. “This belongs to you.”
Julian lowered his eyes but did not reach out. He suddenly gave an extremely mocking sneer. “Clara, you’re actually giving this back?” Six months ago, Julian proposed out of nowhere. The moment he slipped that ring onto my finger, forever felt real. So I cherished that ring obsessively. I never took it off, even to sleep. He once mocked me for making a fuss. I ignored his sarcasm and repeated my words calmly. “Yes. Returning to sender.” Julian’s smile froze for a moment. Then he curled his lips with a condescending tone. “Keep it.” He said lazily. “Putting it back on you later is too much trouble.” Trouble? In Julian’s world, what was actually easy? Crossing the whole country to see her was not trouble. Gifts and messages always arrived punctually every year. Dropping everything to comfort her wasn’t trouble. If she was upset, he’d drop everything and fly out just to be there for her. Even while I waited for him at home. I had always chosen not to think too hard about these things. Now, they hit me like a tidal wave. I thought if I just kept waiting, he would eventually be fully mine. I was wrong. No matter what I did, Julian always kept a place in his heart just for Isabella. “No thanks,” my voice lacked even a single ripple. “We are completely finished.”
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