Leaving Him in the Rearview

On the day we graduated, my boyfriend was finally supposed to fulfill his promise of taking me on a road trip to the coast. But when the morning arrived, he gave the passenger seat to my best friend, Ashley. He said, “Ashley’s had a brutal time pulling herself out of the shadow of her breakup. Let’s not rub our relationship in her face.” I looked down at the motion sickness pills in my palm, suddenly at a loss for words. I had always gotten terribly sick sitting in the back of a car, and Colby knew that. He had always known. Ashley buckled her seatbelt with practiced ease, turning around to flash me a sheepish smile. “May, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your spot.” Colby was already adjusting the AC vents for her, his brow furrowing as he caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “Ashley is going through enough right now. Do you really have to pick a fight over a seat?” I didn’t say a word. Before the ocean breeze even touched my face, I tasted the salt of my own tears. When we reached our boutique inn by the shore, the owner handed us three sheets of stationery. He explained it was a tradition for their graduation guests—a letter we could write to our future selves, to be mailed in three years. Once Ashley finished hers, she asked Colby to help her fold it into an origami heart. Colby took it from her with a gentle, reassuring smile. “You’ll find someone who actually deserves you soon, Ash.” I stared down at my own paper. I had written only one sentence: “Three years from now, will I still be the one sitting in his passenger seat?” That night at the beach bonfire, Colby nudged me out of the frame. “Can you take a photo of us? It’s so rare to see Ashley smile like this lately.” And that was when it finally clicked. This trip was never about fulfilling “my” dream. Just before we left to go home, the innkeeper ran after me and slipped an envelope into my hand. There was no return address. The postmark stamped on the front was dated three years in the future. The handwriting was unmistakably mine. With trembling fingers, I tore it open. There were only seven words inside: “Keep your hands on the steering wheel.” … “May, let Ashley have the ocean-view suite.” Colby was holding our suitcases, turning back to look at me in the lobby of the boutique inn. Ashley stood beside him, looking helpless and small. Two keycards lay on the counter. One was the top-floor master suite with a skylight and panoramic ocean views. The other was a dark, cramped room on the ground floor facing the brick wall of the parking lot. I had pulled two consecutive all-nighters two weeks ago just to snag that single skylight suite. “Ashley’s ex really messed her up. She hasn’t slept in days,” Colby said, his tone incredibly matter-of-fact as he slid the suite’s keycard toward her. “The skylight will help her relax. We can take the ground floor. You don’t mind, right?” I stared at the keycard he was offering me, making no move to take it. Ashley waved her hands in a hurried, tearful panic. “No, Colby, really. May has been looking forward to this room for weeks. I can’t take it from her.” “I’ll take the ground floor,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m used to being in the dark anyway.” The more she did this, the deeper Colby’s frown carved into his forehead. He practically forced the card into her hand, then turned to me, his voice dropping into a stern, warning register. “May, where is your empathy? Ashley is in a really fragile place right now. What if she spirals?” “It’s just a room. We have plenty of time to come back to the ocean.” I watched him. From freshman to senior year, it was always “we have plenty of time”. I used to believe him. But now, I was done waiting for his “plenty of time.” I grabbed the ground-floor keycard and dragged my small suitcase toward the stairs. “Fine. Do whatever you want.” No tears. No yelling. Colby let out a visible breath of relief, his tone instantly softening. “I knew you’d understand. You’re always so level-headed.” “Tonight, I’ll take you to that famous lobster shack down the road.” The ground-floor room was humid, smelling faintly of damp carpet. When I pushed open the window, all I saw was a gray concrete wall. I left my suitcase packed in the corner. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the concrete, feeling the walls press in. I had mild claustrophobia; Colby used to know this. Now, his head was so full of Ashley’s insomnia that he’d forgotten my fears entirely. At dinner, Colby ordered a feast of oysters, garlic shrimp, and spicy crab. All of Ashley’s favorites. I stared at the red oil and the platters of shellfish. I am mildly allergic to shellfish—too much of it breaks me out in hives. Whenever Colby had taken me out in the past, he had always made sure there was a simple green salad and a bowl of plain clam chowder or soup for me. Today, there was nothing. “May, why aren’t you eating?” Ashley asked, holding a piece of crabmeat, smiling warmly. Colby was busy peeling shrimp for her. Without looking up, he said, “She’s on a diet. She doesn’t eat much at night.” “Eat up, Ash, you’re getting too thin.” I flagged down a waiter and ordered a bowl of plain potato leek soup. Colby pushed a small bowl of perfectly peeled shrimp toward Ashley. Ashley teased, “You’re feeding me too much, Colby. May’s going to get jealous.” Colby wiped his hands, glanced at me, and chuckled. “She’s not that petty.” I drank my bland soup in silence, offering no defense. After dinner, Colby suggested a walk on the beach. I told them I was tired and wanted to go back to the inn. Colby didn’t try to persuade me otherwise; he just told me to lock the door behind me and walked toward the shoreline with Ashley. On my way back, I stopped at a drugstore to buy allergy medicine. Some of the crab broth had splattered onto my collarbone during dinner, and my neck was already starting to itch. I took the pills back at the inn. The signal inside the room was terrible, so I went out to sit on the courtyard swing. The night air was cool. After some time, the gate creaked open. Colby and Ashley walked in, laughing softly. I sat in the shadow of the trellis, and they didn’t notice me. Ashley was holding a small, distinctive velvet box. “Colby, this is too expensive. I can’t accept it.” Colby’s voice was incredibly gentle. “Keep it. To celebrate your fresh start.” “I know it’ll look beautiful on you.” She opened the box. Under the warm courtyard lights, I saw it clearly: a mother-of-pearl Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra pendant. Three months ago, we had passed the boutique downtown. I had stared at that exact necklace for a long time. Colby had held my hand, promising he would buy it for my graduation gift. He did buy it. He just changed the recipient. Ashley lowered her head, letting Colby step behind her. He carefully brushed her long hair to one side, clasping the gold chain around her neck. “Do you like it?” She turned around, her smile radiant. Colby nodded, his gaze entirely focused on her. “It suits you perfectly.” I sat in the dark, watching them. The ocean breeze blew through the courtyard, carrying a bitter, salty sting. The next morning, Colby woke me early. “May, get ready. We’re renting a car to drive around the island today.” He wore a crisp white linen shirt and seemed in high spirits. I dressed in a high-neck sun shirt to hide the hives on my neck, finished my morning routine, and stepped outside. A sleek convertible was idling in the driveway. Ashley was already in the passenger seat, adjusting her lipstick in the visor mirror. The gold clover necklace caught the morning sun, flashing a blinding light. “May, hurry up! The weather is gorgeous today,” Ashley called out, waving. I opened the back door and slid into the rear seat. Colby shifted into drive, and we set off. As we hit the coastal highway, the wind roared into the open cabin. Ashley stood up in her seat, laughing and throwing her arms wide. “Colby, go faster! This is amazing!” Colby laughed indulgently and stepped on the gas. The wind whipped violently against my face. I have chronic migraines; I can’t handle strong, direct wind. I curled into the corner of the back seat, covering my ears as my head began to throb with a sharp, agonizing rhythm. “Colby, can we put the top up?” I asked, my voice instantly torn apart by the gale. Colby glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his brow furrowing. “What’s the point of a convertible if we don’t let the wind in? Don’t be a buzzkill, May.” Ashley sat back down, turning around to look at me with an apologetic expression. “May, are you feeling sick? We can close it, it’s fine.” She said it was fine, but her smile completely vanished. Colby immediately patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the first time you’ve looked happy all trip.” “May, just hang in there. We’re almost at the overlook.” I closed my eyes, retreating into silence. I pulled the zipper of my sun shirt all the way to my chin and buried my face in my knees. When the car finally pulled into the gravel parking lot of the cliffside overlook, I bolted out the door. I ran to the edge of the grass and dry-heaved, my stomach churning violently, though nothing came up. Colby walked over, carrying two cold bottles of water. He handed one to Ashley first, then extended the other to me with a heavy sigh. “What is your deal today? You’ve been throwing tantrums left and right.” “Ashley is finally out having fun, and you’re doing everything you can to ruin the mood.” I stood up straight, wiping the tears from my eyes. “My head hurts. I’m going to get a warm drink.” Without waiting for his response, I walked toward the small cafe on the other side of the pavilion. I ordered a hot tea and sat on a wooden bench for a long time, waiting for the throbbing in my skull to quiet down. When I finally walked back to the parking lot, the convertible was gone. I stood in the blazing midday sun for ten minutes before my phone buzzed. It was a text from Colby. “Ashley wanted to go take photos at the cliffside lighthouse, but the path is too narrow for the convertible. We’re dropping it off to swap for an SUV. Walk around the overlook for a bit, I’ll pick you up later.” I stared at the screen, my eyes stinging under the glare. The drive from the overlook to the lighthouse took over an hour. He had left me stranded on a mountain pass without even asking. I didn’t reply. I slid the phone back into my pocket. There was no shade at the overlook. I stood under a small oak tree, watching the distant blue horizon. During our sophomore year, we had gone hiking. I had sprained my ankle, and Colby had carried me on his back for over a mile without a single complaint. His shirt had been soaked with sweat, but he had smiled at me over his shoulder. “As long as I’m around, I’ll never let you walk a hard path alone.” Back then, Colby had genuinely loved me. A tour shuttle pulled up to the curb. I paid the driver and took a seat, riding it back to the inn. I returned to the damp, ground-floor room, crawled onto the bed, and fell into a deep, heavy sleep. When I woke up, the room was dark. The only light came from the screen of my phone, flashing with a social media notification. I tapped it. Ashley had posted a photo five minutes ago. In the picture, she and Colby were standing at the base of the lighthouse, silhouetted against a brilliant orange sunset. Colby was looking down at her, his expression tender and soft. The caption read: “It’s not the scenery that heals you, it’s the person who stays by your side.” Underneath, mutual friends had left comments. “Colby is so handsome! You look gorgeous, Ash!” “Where’s May? Why isn’t she in the picture?” Ashley had replied: “May is resting at the inn. She doesn’t really like the ocean breeze.” I stared at the photo. My thumb hovered over the screen, and I quietly tapped the heart icon to leave a like. Then, I closed the app and opened my email. There was an unread message sitting in my inbox—an official job offer from a major tech company in Chicago. I had actually received it two weeks ago. But because I wanted to stay in the same city as Colby, I had held off on replying. I had even prepared to interview at the local mid-sized firm where he had already signed his contract. I opened the reply field and typed out a short message. “Thank you for the offer. I am thrilled to accept. What is the earliest date I can begin onboarding?” I hit send, tossed the phone onto the mattress, and began packing. I didn’t have much. Within thirty minutes, everything was zipped back into my suitcase. At nine that night, I heard footsteps outside. Colby pushed the door open, carrying a paper bag containing a cold box of takeout. “Why did you leave the overlook on your own? I told you I’d come back for you,” he said, setting the bag on the table with an annoyed sigh. “I called you, but you didn’t answer.” “Ashley thought you were mad at her. She spent the entire drive back blaming herself.” I looked at the cold takeout. Instead of answering him, I asked, “Was the lighthouse beautiful?” Colby paused, caught off guard by how calm I sounded. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It was fine. A bit windy. Ashley took a few photos and we left.” He hesitated, his tone softening in an attempt to keep the peace. “We’re going diving tomorrow. I booked that deep-sea charter you always wanted to try. Consider it my way of making it up to you, okay?” I looked at him. “Colby, I have severe thalassophobia.” During our freshman year, we had visited an aquarium, and I had been too terrified to walk through the glass tunnel. He had held me close, promising he would never make me go near deep water again. Colby’s expression stiffened. He had completely forgotten. “I… I must have remembered it wrong,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Ashley said she wanted to go diving, so I figured you’d want to go too.” “It’s fine,” I said, cutting him off. “You two go. I’ll wait on the boat.” The next morning, we set out on the charter. I sat on the deck of the yacht, watching Colby help Ashley into her wetsuit. He checked her oxygen tank with meticulous care, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Ashley leaned into him, laughing like a child. Suddenly, a massive swell hit the yacht, causing the deck to tilt violently. My waterproof gear bag, which I had placed by my feet, slid across the slick fiberglass and went over the railing. I bolted upright and ran to the edge. That bag contained all the physical copies of my design portfolio and thesis materials for the local interviews—months of exhausting, meticulous work. “Colby, my bag!” I yelled, reaching out to him instinctively. Colby started to stand, but Ashley shrieked as the boat swayed again, locking her arms tightly around his waist. “Colby, I’m scared!” Colby immediately wrapped his arms around her, patting her back. “It’s okay, it’s just a wave. I’ve got you.” He looked up at me, his forehead creasing. “It’s just a bag, May. Is there really anything in there that matters?” I pointed at the dark water where the bag was slowly sinking. My voice shook. “That’s my portfolio. Those are my original prints.” Colby dismissed it with a shrug. “You can just reprint them when we get home. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Can’t you see Ashley is terrified?” I stared at his hands, wrapped protectively around her waist. The ocean wind seemed to freeze the remaining warmth in my chest. The bag disappeared into the dark blue depths, leaving nothing but a fading ripple. Just like my love for him—sinking without a sound. I turned around, walked back into the cabin, and sat down quietly. “See? That’s better. It’s really not that big of a deal,” Colby’s voice drifted in from the deck. My phone buzzed. It was an email from the Chicago recruiter. “We can start your onboarding next Monday. Welcome to the team.” I looked at the calendar on my phone. Today was Thursday. The timing was perfect. Once the yacht docked, Colby and Ashley headed to a seafood restaurant. I told them I wasn’t feeling well and went back to the inn alone. I folded my remaining clothes and packed them away. I booked a flight to Chicago for the next morning. There were still three days left of the graduation trip, but I couldn’t stay here for another minute. That evening, Colby walked into the room carrying a plate of sliced fruit. His eyes were soft. “May, about today… I’m sorry. The boat was rocking too much, and I couldn’t grab your bag in time.” I didn’t look at the fruit, continuing to pack my toiletries. He stepped closer, his eyes landing on the pair of leather loafers sitting on the nightstand. They were a limited-edition pair he had stood in line for three hours to buy me for my birthday last year. “Ashley twisted her ankle when we got off the boat today. Her feet are too swollen for her heels.” He picked up my loafers. “These are soft. Let her borrow them for a few days.” My hands went still. I looked at him. “Those were a birthday gift from you.” Colby smiled, his tone patronizing. “They’re just shoes, May. Don’t be so petty. I’ll buy you a better pair when we get back.” Without waiting for my permission, he took them. “Oh, by the way,” he said, pausing at the threshold. “Don’t bother going to the interview at the local firm next week.” I raised my head. “Ashley doesn’t want to go back to her hometown. She wants to stay here. That firm has an opening, so I gave her your internal referral.” He looked at me, completely at ease with managing my life for me. “Since your portfolio sank anyway, maybe it’s a sign. You can look for something else later. Besides, I make enough to support you. You can just stay home and take care of things.” I stared at his familiar face, suddenly finding him completely unrecognizable. “Okay,” I said quietly. Colby breathed a sigh of relief and reached out to ruffle my hair. “I knew my girl was reasonable.” He left, carrying my shoes, perfectly content to go comfort another woman. The next morning, I dragged my suitcase out of the damp room. Ashley was sitting on the lobby sofa. On her feet were my leather loafers. Around her neck was the clover pendant. Seeing my suitcase, a smug, knowing smile crept onto her face. “Where are you going, May? Colby told you to stay and look after me, didn’t he?” I ignored her, walking straight past. “You’re pathetic,” Ashley said softly behind me. “You think if you run away, he’ll chase after you?” “He stayed in my room the entire night.” “He told me that being with you is exhausting. Like raising a daughter. He said he finally feels relaxed when he’s with me.” My fingers on the suitcase handle didn’t even tremble. I pushed the door open, letting the crisp morning air sweep away the stale scent of the room. I got into the waiting taxi. Two hours later, my plane climbed into the clouds. At the exact same time back at the inn, Colby walked into the lobby carrying a bag of medicine. “Ash, I got the wraps. Where’s May?” Ashley sat on the sofa, offering a helpless shrug. “She packed her bags and left. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen.” Colby froze, his brow knitting tightly. “Left? Where?” He pulled out his phone and dialed my number. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is currently busy…” Frowning, he opened our chat and sent a voice note. “May, what kind of drama is this? Where did you go? Get back here right now.” A red exclamation mark popped up. “Message blocked. You are no longer connected with this user.” Colby stared at the screen, his face pale with utter disbelief.

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