Right before the Christmas holidays, I texted Julian: [What day are you coming to my parents' house?] Julian took a full four days to reply. [1] Unable to suppress my fury, I took a screenshot of the chat and posted it on Reddit, asking the internet to judge: Is this a boyfriend, or a broken chatbot? The replies were brutal: "Definitely a boyfriend. ChatGPT isn't this stupid; even AI knows how to ask how your day was." "That’s harsh, but true." "Why are you even with this guy? Are you keeping him around just so you don't have to be single for the holidays?" "Don't bother telling her, OP is obviously obsessed. She didn't dump him immediately, she's posting on Reddit asking for advice. She's still holding out hope for this robot." I let out a bitter laugh. The comments weren't wrong. I was actually still waiting for Julian to send a real reply. [You said you were terrified of marriage, and I waited for you for seven years. This year, you finally said you were ready to meet my parents. What is this silent treatment supposed to mean?] [Are you coming or not? Give me a straight answer!] While waiting for him to reply, I was scrolling through TikTok and stumbled across a viral video. The caption read: [My boss agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend for the holidays to get my parents off my back. Which outfit should he wear?] The video was a slideshow of eight photos. In every single one, the man’s outfit was perfectly color-coordinated to match the girl’s outfit. It was obvious the guy had put a lot of thought into it. The comments were flooded with people shipping them: [OMG, my favorite CEO x Assistant trope is finally hitting the 'meet the parents' arc?!] When I swiped to the sixth photo, I froze. The custom cufflinks on the man's tailored suit... were the exact ones I had custom-designed specifically for Julian. At that exact moment, a notification popped up from Julian. It was another cold, single-character reply: [1]. I stared at that "1" for a long time. It felt utterly ridiculous. Just as ridiculous as I had been for the past seven years, constantly dropping hints that I wanted to get married. I closed his chat thread and opened my blocked contacts list. I unblocked a contact saved as: "Crazy European Stalker." [Come to my parents' house on December 27th. Meet the family.] [We're getting married after the holidays.] He replied instantly: [YES! Booking my flight right now!] Julian, you don't need to come anymore. You never have to come again. I opened Julian's chat thread again. That glaring "1" was still the most recent message. What was the point of this? It took me seven years just to force him to agree to meet my parents for the holidays. Was I supposed to spend the next seven years forcing him to marry me? And another seven forcing him to have kids? "Let's break up," I typed definitively, and hit send. I put my phone down and started packing. We started dating freshman year of college. We'd been together for ten years, living together for eight. We had accumulated a mountain of stuff. But once I made the absolute decision to leave, packing went faster than any time I had moved before. Throw away the trash. Donate the rest. Soon, the three-bedroom apartment that used to be crammed with our lives felt hollow and empty. I efficiently booked a moving company and had my boxes hauled to a small, one-bedroom condo I had bought a few years ago as an investment property. With that, the physical ties to this relationship were severed. Right before I walked out the door, I took one last look around the apartment we had lived in the longest—the place we had originally planned to renovate into our marital home. A sudden, sharp wave of sorrow washed over my chest. Ten years. Just like that, it was over, ending with barely a whisper. After finishing the move, I rolled my suitcase into the airport terminal. Right then, my phone chimed with a notification tone I had assigned specifically to Julian. Despite everything, a spark of hope uncontrollably flared up, and my thumb tapped the notification faster than my brain could process it. [1] "Ha." I let out a sharp, neurotic laugh, then immediately permanently blocked his number. The soft, acoustic music playing in the airport coffee shop filtered through the air. I thought about the last ten years. We had sweet moments, and we had brutal fights. Ending things now was probably the only way to honor how serious we used to be about each other. I couldn't wait until Julian's little assistant showed up at my door to finally wake up. That would be way too pathetic. While lost in thought, I was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. A new post popped up on my feed. I tapped it out of habit. It was from Chloe, Julian's young executive assistant. [AHHHHH! My boss agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend to help me deal with my parents pressuring me to get married! I am the luckiest girl in the world!] [You guys don't even know, Mr. Vance spent forever picking out outfits just so he could come home with me for the holidays~ Who says guys hate shopping? I am so exhausted!] Attached was a carousel of nine photos showcasing Julian in different outfits. They were casual, yet still radiated that subtle, expensive aura. Hoodies, distressed denim, crisp white sneakers. It was a complete 180 from his usual, overly formal style. Just as I pressed the buttons to take a screenshot, the post vanished. She had deleted it. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, remembering when I first met Julian in college. As the Student Body President, he was already strictly adhering to a wardrobe of button-downs and slacks. I used to beg him to wear matching couple's outfits with me, but he always refused. "My position in student government doesn't allow me to wear that kind of flashy, childish clothing. Stop being unreasonable." Since when were hoodies and jeans considered flashy and childish? I stared at the screenshots of Julian dressed like a frat boy, sharp pangs of pain radiating through my chest. Even though I had already broken up with him, my emotions were still being dragged around by him. The airport PA system announced my flight. I stood up and joined the boarding line. I had been taking this flight home for the holidays alone for ten years. I had been asking him to come home to meet my parents for five years. But Chloe? She had only been interning under Julian for six months. It doesn't matter anymore, Julian. From now on, you'll never have to rack your brain trying to invent excuses to reject me again. The plane was incredibly quiet, especially since it was a red-eye flight. Surrounded by hundreds of people, I was suddenly drowning in an overwhelming sense of isolation. I opened up the TikTok account I had accidentally discovered belonging to Chloe. Sure enough, she had posted a new storytime video titled: "When the one who loves you doesn't need to be asked, he just knows." "The second my boss heard my parents had set me up on a blind date for the holidays, he panicked! I hadn't even brought up the idea of finding a fake boyfriend yet, and he volunteered to come home with me to deal with my parents!" "Omg guys, I think I've turned into one of those girls who gets a crush on their strict camp counselor, or falls in love with their manager. I'm so obsessed." "But my boss treats me so incredibly well... What am I supposed to do if I'm catching real feelings?" The comments were a unified wall of encouragement and shipping. "Girl, your boss is built like a model and has the face of a CEO. He's young, successful, and making the first move. How could you not catch feelings?!" "Verdict: OP is an oblivious, innocent sweetheart. Your boss is practically throwing himself at you, you just need to open your eyes!" "Agreed! I've been following OP for six months, checking every day wondering when she's finally going to get it... When are you going to change your handle from 'Intern Chloe Grinding Daily' to 'Sweet Daily Life with my CEO Hubby'?" "OP, confess your feelings right now! You guys are obviously just one step away from making it official!" ... We had been together for ten years. How could I not have noticed Julian drifting away? I was just... so tired. Julian was strongly opposed to marriage. I found this out the year we graduated college. I thought about it for a week, and ultimately decided to break up with him. "I'm an only child. If I don't get married, my parents, my grandparents—my entire family—would be absolutely devastated." Julian's face had gone ghostly white. "Do you really not care about me at all?" "What good does caring do?!" I had been furious—angry that he had hidden his stance against marriage. "I can't just be your girlfriend for the rest of my life!" Julian scrambled for excuses. "Your life belongs to you. You shouldn't have to carry the burden of your parents' or your family's expectations." I held up a hand to stop him. "Who said this was just their expectation? We used to talk about having one kid and giving them all our love." "This is what I want. I want a family. I love kids." I glared at him coldly. "So, all those times you agreed with me, were you just talking out of your ass?" Julian had nothing to say. After that argument, we unofficially broke up. But a month later, he showed up at my corporate housing. Looking gaunt and pale, he held out a bouquet of flowers. "Anna, I don't want to lose you." He spoke with intense gravity. "Can you just give me some time? At least right now, I am absolutely not ready to step into a marriage." My heart softened. He was, after all, my first love. "I never said we had to get married right this second." "Are you sure about this?" I asked him. "Don't change your views on marriage or your life plans just for someone else." Julian's deep, expressive eyes welled up. "Compared to getting married, I'm much more terrified of losing you." He paused. "Anna, wait for me." "I will get over this fear." And so I waited. For seven years. I didn't want to wait anymore. After walking out of the airport and grabbing my suitcase, I was about to call an Uber. To my surprise, the second I stepped out of the sliding doors, I got a call from my dad. "Sweetie, did you land?" "I'm parked by the bus stop near Exit 1. Walk toward this side when you get out." "Okay, got it." I was a little shocked. Aside from my first two years of college, my dad had never come to pick me up from the airport. "I just walked out, I'm heading your way." I rolled my suitcase down the sidewalk and spotted my parents leaning against their SUV from a mile away, scanning the crowd. When they saw me, they rushed over. My dad grabbed my bag to put it in the trunk, while my mom kept stretching her neck, looking behind me. Seeing how eager they were, I was suddenly very glad I had called in a ringer. "Dad, Mom—" I opened the back door. "My boyfriend isn't coming until the 27th. Stop looking." "Oh, right, right, right—" My mom slapped her thigh. "Today's only Christmas Eve. We gotta let the boy spend Christmas with his own family first." My dad slapped the steering wheel. "That Julian kid is thirty now. Glad he finally realized he needs to step up." I pursed my lips, cutting off their excited chatter about their future son-in-law Julian. "I broke up with Julian." "I'm dating someone new. His name is Arthur." "Make sure you get the name right." My dad, completely ignoring the fact that he was currently driving, whipped his head around to stare at me. "But when you called last week, you said Julian was away on a business trip—" "Watch the road!" My mom expertly shoved his head back toward the windshield. "It's not you getting a new boyfriend, why are you panicking? Our daughter said he's coming on the 27th, so we'll meet him on the 27th! You're driving like a maniac, people are going to think you've been chugging eggnog..." I laid back against the rear seats, silently listening to my mom scold my dad. She was right. Just last week on the phone, I had told them Julian was coming home with me this year. It was a massive sudden change for them. I expected them to interrogate me, but they just bickered with each other and completely skipped over the topic. Tears blurred my vision, because I felt overwhelmingly, unconditionally loved. I dozed off in the car. When we pulled into the driveway, I was swarmed by relatives before I even stepped out of the vehicle. My grandmother on my dad's side had five kids; my grandmother on my mom's side had six. Both of my parents were the youngest, most spoiled children in their respective massive families. Consequently, my marital status had always been a high-priority issue for both sides of the family tree. My oldest cousin was bouncing his new grandson. "This year, I specifically brought the baby over so you and your man could get some good luck! Once you're married, hurry up and have a kid so my aunt can finally relax." "We will, we will. Very soon." My two older female cousins stuck their heads into the car, looking around. "This new boyfriend of yours doesn't seem to know the rules. How can he drag his feet like this?" They clicked their tongues in disapproval. "If he had any sense, he would have shown up today with gifts in hand. You're treating him like a prince." "Yeah, seriously. He's really lacking etiquette." My aunts and uncles crowded closer. "Where's the new boyfriend? He didn't come today?" "Not today. He's coming on the 27th." ... My youngest aunt finally pulled me out of the mob. "Give the guy a break! Christmas Day and Boxing Day are for his own family! Anna already said he's coming on the 27th. Why are you guys so impatient? Let the poor girl rest first." Even in the freezing winter air, I was sweating from the interrogation. Crap. This Arthur guy, this European aristocrat... does he have any idea how to handle the sheer force of an American extended family? The 25th and 26th were a blur of visiting relatives' houses. When I finally collapsed onto my bed to rest, my phone rang with an unknown number. I answered, exhausted. "Hello?" "It's me." It was Julian. Before I could even process it, his aggrieved voice came through the speaker. "You blocked me." "Yeah," I replied calmly. "We broke up. Am I supposed to keep you unblocked so I can like your Instagram posts?" "I admit I was wrong! But Anna, can you please just give me a little more time... I'm still not ready." "You've done a lot of wrong things. Which one are you talking about?" I asked coldly. "You promised me you would come home with me for the holidays. If you couldn't do it, why did you agree? And even if you changed your mind at the last minute, why didn't you just communicate that to me?" "Ever since you agreed to come home, you either left my messages on read or ignored them completely. Go search our chat history and see how many times you just replied with '1' this past year." "You said you were terrified of marriage, that you didn't want to meet my parents. I gave you time to prepare. Seven years! A full seven years." I took a breath. "I was understanding and respectful of your boundaries. And you turned around and went to your assistant's hometown with her for the holidays." There was a loud crash over the phone, followed by Julian's sharp intake of breath. "Ah!" "How did you know... no, wait, let me explain!" "I just came here to help Chloe avoid her parents trying to force her into an arranged marriage. She's only 21, she shouldn't have to..." I was sick of hearing it. I cut him off sharply. "I don't want to hear it!" "We are already broken up. I do not want to hear your excuses!" Julian was both anxious and angry. "I admit that breaking my promise to you was my fault, but can you at least give me a chance to explain? We agreed that if we had issues, we'd talk them out. We never went to bed angry." He was still avoiding the subject of Chloe entirely. I didn't want to waste my precious downtime on him anymore. "There's nothing left to explain. Julian, you deceived me about your stance on marriage, you broke your promises, you deflected blame, and you took absolutely zero accountability." "I am unilaterally informing you: we are broken up. That's it." I finished speaking, immediately hung up, and blocked the number. When it came to Julian, I knew in my soul that I owed him absolutely nothing. My parents were childhood sweethearts who married for love. Their relationship was beautiful and full of mutual grace. I always believed that in a relationship, you need respect, grace, and mutual understanding. I gave Julian seven years. That was more than enough. I shifted to get comfortable and go back to sleep. A notification popped up on WhatsApp. It was Chloe, complaining that I was being too heartless. [Ms. Anna, you've completely misunderstood Mr. Vance.] [He really only came back with me to help me out. My parents are super traditional and are trying to force me to get married before I even graduate college.] [You're a woman too, you should be able to understand what I'm going through.] [Mr. Vance bought a red-eye plane ticket just so he could explain things to you in person. He hasn't slept properly in days, and he has to fly out again tonight.] [Ms. Anna, you're his girlfriend. Don't you feel bad for him at all?] [I am so grateful to Mr. Vance. He's taught me so much, and I genuinely want you two to be happy together.] I forwarded her the link to her own TikTok video and added a single question: [Do Intern Chloe's followers know she's knowingly sleeping with her boss while he has a girlfriend of ten years?] Chloe went completely silent. She just frantically started deleting her TikTok videos. I put my phone down, deeply satisfied, and slept a dreamless sleep. The next day, I didn't drag myself out of bed until right before lunch. Just as I opened my bedroom door, I heard a massive commotion coming from the living room. Curious, I washed my face and headed downstairs. Halfway down, I saw my entire extended family crowded around a tall, blonde man in a trench coat, treating him like royalty. "... Arthur?" I blurted his name out in shock. Across the room, the man flamboyantly swept his long hair back, turned around, and walked toward me. My relatives parted like the Red Sea, creating a clear path for him. Arthur stopped in front of me. Standing three steps up, I was a head taller than him. He bowed deeply in an exaggerated, aristocratic greeting. "At your service." "My leading lady has finally awakened." He took off his sunglasses, his trench coat flaring out dramatically. "Five years have passed, My Miss Ophelia." "AHHHHH! He is so handsome! Is he like, a prince from another country?!" "Blonde hair! Six-foot-four! A Maybach! Auntie Anna really scored!" My nieces and nephews were clutching their chests and screaming. My cousin's husband scratched his head. "Well, I'll be damned. This guy is ridiculously good-looking." My youngest aunt smiled maternally. "He's very handsome. He's definitely worthy of our Anna." My dad grabbed Arthur's arm. "Come on, let's finish our game of chess. For a foreigner, you're pretty damn good at this!" My mom rushed up the stairs and practically dragged me back into my room. "Good lord! Why did you come out here in your pajamas?! Hurry up, put on some makeup and change your clothes!" She started tearing through my closet. "You wear a trench coat too!" "You're both tall, you both have great skin. The kids you have are going to be gorgeous! Hey, what do they call kids from different races? Mixed-race, right? Will they be American or European?" "This new boyfriend of yours has purple eyes! That's so exotic! If it weren't for him, I would have thought the world only had brown and blue eyes. If your kids inherit his eyes, that would be amazing. What's the saying? 'Rare things are precious'!" She was clearly lost in her own fantasy world. I didn't interrupt her. My parents had deflected the family's pressure to get married for five or six years, and they had never once pressured me themselves. I threw on a trench coat, pulled on some knee-high boots, and did some light makeup. My mom finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Take him around and introduce him to everyone. Don't go wandering off, lunch is almost ready." I agreed to everything and followed her downstairs. Arthur was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, good-naturedly chatting with the younger generation of my family. He really didn't look like the psychotic maniac who, after being rejected, had tried to hold me hostage. Hearing us, he turned and held out a hand to help me down the last step. "Anna, I waited for you for a very long time." I swatted his hand away. "Drop the theatrical act." He didn't get mad. He just smiled happily and squeezed in right next to me. "Your relatives are fascinating. They all really like me." I grabbed his hand. "That's because you're my boyfriend." "Follow me. I'm going to introduce you to everyone. Just repeat whatever I call them." "It's fine if you don't remember their names. Just make a good impression." Arthur looked down at our joined hands, absolutely thrilled, and agreed repeatedly. "Darling, whatever you say." I shot him a sideways glance. What a two-faced chameleon. In reality, my nieces weren't completely wrong. Arthur actually was a prince. More accurately, he was now a Duke. The first time I met him was during a road trip to a historic town. He was hitchhiking on the side of the road, looking like a total mess, and I pulled over. The second time was at a corporate trade negotiation. I was just a junior associate shadowing my manager to learn the ropes, and he was the lead executive for the opposing European conglomerate. Back then, I thought he was a stern, unsmiling, strictly-business type of guy. The third time, I was the lead negotiator. Due to business requirements, we started interacting a lot more. Then, we exchanged social media handles and became friends. And then... he suddenly confessed his love for me. When I rejected him, he actually had me kidnapped and taken to some undisclosed mansion. I had been furious. "This is how you show you like someone?! By violating my consent and holding me against my will?!" "We just need to spend more time together. You'll fall in love with me eventually," he stared at me, dangerously stubborn. "Also, I would never physically harm you." I was rendered speechless by his bizarre, archaic views on romance. "I don't care where you learned how to treat women, but let me make one thing crystal clear, Arthur." "Any real relationship has to be built on free will. Affection that isn't freely given is just submission." "That kind of connection will evaporate the second it's tested. Do you really want that kind of fake love?" Honestly, I hadn't held out much hope that reasoning with him would work. After all, psychopaths aren't exactly known for logic. To my absolute shock, after listening to me, he looked thoughtful for a moment... and then just let me go. After unlocking the ankle monitor he had put on me, he even hosted a lavish dinner for me. Before putting me in a car to send me home, he announced that he was going to pursue me properly. He pursued me relentlessly and flamboyantly for an entire year. I eventually blocked him on every single platform. Later, he told me he had to return to Europe to attend the Queen's funeral and, coincidentally, inherit a title. That was when I found out he was literal aristocracy. On the day he left, he said, "Ophelia, you have no idea how much of a miracle your presence in my life has been." "I beg of you, if you ever decide to get married... please consider me." I had to admit, while his methods were deeply unhinged, he definitely made a lasting impression. Which was why, when I needed someone to swoop in and play the role of the fiancé, he was the very first person who came to mind. I led him from the living room to the kitchen, from the garden to my dad's study. By the end of the tour, the pockets of his trench coat were stuffed with red envelopes filled with cash—traditional Chinese holiday gifts from my relatives. Halfway through the tour, when his pockets were literally overflowing, I had to find a gift bag for him to carry the rest of the envelopes. Once the tour was over and we were back in my room, Arthur started opening the red envelopes, looking absolutely ecstatic. "I love Chinese traditions. Especially the red envelopes." I casually replied, "Well, when you get married, you'll have to give out a lot of red envelopes yourself." Arthur looked up at me, suddenly deadly serious. "So, when are we getting married?" I froze. "Uh," I shifted uncomfortably under his expectant gaze. Usually, I was the one asking that question. "Whenever it's convenient for you, I guess..." He stopped counting the cash, stood up, and pressed me. "I read that traditional Chinese weddings require a matchmaker and formal betrothal gifts! Tell me exactly what I need to do, Ophelia. I want to marry you as soon as possible." I laughed. "It's not that traditional anymore!" "Ophelia, marriage is incredibly sacred. I need you to take this seriously!" Being stared down by those deep purple eyes was making me a little nervous. "Okay, I..." "Anna! Arthur! Come downstairs, it's time to eat!" My mom's shout from downstairs interrupted us. We exchanged a look. He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Food first, everything else later." I grabbed his hand and ran downstairs. At the dinner table, Arthur ate while seriously and politely answering all my relatives' questions. He was handling the interrogation perfectly. Suddenly, he turned to my mom. "Mrs. Evans." "What exactly do I need to do to marry in America?" "Anna is bullying me. She won't tell me." "Mrs. Evans, I want to marry Anna very badly. I am willing to... become a stay-at-home husband. Please, let me be a stay-at-home husband." The entire table went dead silent. My mom stared at Arthur, her jaw hanging open. "Huh? Oh... wow, I... uh..." She shot me a frantic look. I actually managed to translate it instantly: [What does this mean?! You don't want to marry him?! This kid is offering to be a stay-at-home husband! Opportunities like this don't just fall out of the sky! What are you thinking?! Give me an answer!] I sighed helplessly. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my uncle strolled into the dining room, hands behind his back. "Oh! You guys are eating." He pointed out the front door. "There's a young guy out there claiming to be Anna's boyfriend. I brought him inside." "Anna," he coughed awkwardly. "I know you're a beautiful girl, but we have to have some morals here. You can't be dating two guys at the same time! You're treating these boys like fish in a pond!" Holy crap. Did Julian actually show up?! I shot up from my chair and practically sprinted toward the front door. Arthur immediately abandoned his food and followed right behind me. It really was him. The second I saw Julian, I wanted to grab a shovel and bury him in the septic tank! "What are you doing here?" I hissed, keeping my voice low. Arthur shadowed me closely, standing right at my shoulder. Julian didn't answer me. He glared at Arthur and demanded, "Who is he?" Arthur grabbed my hand, standing silently and protectively behind me. The residual anger I had been harboring instantly vanished—I hadn't even cheated on him, and I certainly hadn't done anything to feel guilty about. What was I afraid of?! "He's my boyfriend," I stated calmly. "He's here to meet my parents." "Julian, all the promises you made? Someone else is here to fulfill them. You should be thanking him." Arthur proudly puffed out his chest. Julian's face twisted in agony. "What about me?" "Didn't we break up?" "I already explained! Chloe was being forced into an arranged marriage—" "You don't need to explain anything to me. The breakup is a done deal." I was so sick of his cyclical, pathetic excuses. "If you had an issue with the breakup, you should have said something the day it happened. Not five days later." I stared him down. "Do you remember what you replied?" Julian's lips trembled, but he couldn't speak. I answered for him. "1." "You replied with a '1'." "That means 'Understood. Agreed,'" my niece, who was eavesdropping, helpfully explained to the older relatives standing nearby. My face instantly burned bright red. I turned around and realized that the wall next to the front gate was lined with the heads of my neighbors, all straining to listen in on the drama.
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