1 A few days after the Christmas holidays, Mason finally returned home from his trip. In the past, I would have already been waiting downstairs in the lobby to greet him with a hot coffee. This time, I didn't even bother getting off the couch. My phone buzzed. His voice came through the speaker with his usual commanding tone. "Come down and help me with my bags." I took a slow, leisurely sip of my chamomile tea and casually rejected him. "I'm busy. Bring them up yourself." A few minutes later, while I was reclining in my lounge chair soaking up the afternoon sun, Mason walked through the front door, panting and dragging his heavy suitcase. The second he walked in, he started complaining about how starving he was and ordered me to make him lunch. If this were the old me, I would have immediately rushed into the kitchen to cater to his every whim. But today, I just gave him a blank look and told him I wasn't feeling well. I told him to order DoorDash. Mason was clearly irritated. He suppressed his temper and tried to explain himself, assuming I was still throwing a fit over the fact that he spent Christmas Day keeping Stella company instead of me. He told me to grow up and stop causing drama. I sat up, smoothed out my hair, and calmly told him I wasn't angry at all. He lit a cigarette. He stubbornly insisted that Stella was just a fragile girl living all alone in the city. He claimed it was dangerous for her to be lonely during the holidays, and as her friend, it was his duty to be there for her. I simply nodded and gave a flat reply. "You're right." Mason stared deeply into my eyes, desperately trying to find the familiar jealousy and desperation he was used to. Finding nothing, he rubbed his temples, claiming he was exhausted from his trip and demanding that I show some understanding. I looked right back at him. I repeated that I wasn't causing drama, and he didn't need to explain himself to me. My utter indifference left Mason completely speechless. He awkwardly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled plastic bag, tossing it onto the coffee table. He said it was my late Christmas present. Inside the bag was a smooth river stone, the cheap acrylic paint on it still slightly sticky. It was a laughable contrast to the diamond tennis bracelet Stella had flaunted on her Instagram story the night before. I thanked him with a completely expressionless face. There was none of the overwhelming joy he had been waiting for. Mason froze. He demanded to know why I wasn't surprised or happy. I calmly reminded him that this was the twentieth painted rock he had gifted me over the years. His face instantly turned an ugly shade of purple. Changing the subject, he held out his hand and asked where his present was. I shrugged my shoulders and told him I forgot to prepare one. I pulled out my phone, casually offering to just buy him whatever he wanted right now on Amazon. Mason's pupils constricted. He clearly never expected me to forget. Every single year, picking out his perfect gift was my absolute biggest priority, even though he never once bothered to get me anything of actual value. The air in the living room seemed to freeze solid. We stared at each other in suffocating silence until I picked up my purse and headed for the door. He grabbed my arm, demanding to know where I was going. "Going out with my friends," I answered flatly. I pulled my arm out of his grip and walked out the door, completely ignoring the string of curses he shouted behind me. Ever since I started dating Mason, his manipulative complaints about wanting to be my "one and only confidant" made me slowly cut off my entire social circle. My friends all thought I had lost my mind. They knew Mason was suffocatingly possessive, so they eventually stopped inviting me out. But now, I was finally reclaiming the freedom and joy that belonged to me. 2 After a few rounds of fruity cocktails, my friends started pouring their hearts out. "We honestly thought you forgot about us the second you got with Mason. If you ever ghost us like that again, we are officially cutting you out of the group chat." I downed another shot and nodded aggressively, making a solemn vow. "Forget Mason. Forget men. From now on, the girl squad comes first. I promise I'm just a phone call away." Since getting together with Mason, I had prioritized him above everything else in my life. Whether it was my career or my personal life, he always took the top spot. I abandoned my own support system and drifted completely away from the people who actually cared about me. Looking back on it now, I was unbelievably stupid. I checked my phone screen. Not a single text from him. By the time I finally satisfied my craving for a night out and headed home, it was already three in the morning. I flipped on the living room lights and instantly spotted Mason sitting on the sofa, his face completely black with rage. I rubbed my eyes, genuinely thinking I was hallucinating. Why the hell was Mason awake and waiting for me at this hour? When Mason smelled the heavy scent of alcohol radiating off my clothes, he didn't even attempt to help me balance. He just looked at me with pure disgust. He covered his nose and sneered. "Harper, why are you letting yourself go like this? I get that you're jealous, but you shouldn't trash your own body. Who are you getting blackout drunk for? Do you actually think this makes me feel sorry for you?" The room was spinning. I was seeing stars, and Mason's angry face was blurring into double vision. Mason frowned as I stumbled against the wall. He muttered under his breath. "You really think you're so tough, drinking yourself into a state like this." "Stella and I are completely innocent. We have a pure friendship. There is absolutely no reason for you to be this insanely jealous, turning yourself into a pathetic mess just to prove a point." I shook my heavy head. "You're overthinking it. I only drank this much because I finally realized the truth." Seeing me sway dangerously, Mason's voice grew harsh and authoritative. "Harper, what more do you want from me? I swallowed my pride and tried to make peace with you, and you're still not satisfied? When are you going to stop throwing these tantrums? Why can't you be gentle and understanding like Stella? I have put up with your attitude for way too long. I am not going to spend the rest of my life walking on eggshells to accommodate you." My head was throbbing. Hearing his voice only made the pounding worse. I leaned against the doorway, exhausted. "Just stop talking. I need to sleep." Mason finally shut his mouth. He poured a glass of water and stepped forward, trying to help me toward the master bedroom. An image of him and Stella tangled up together flashed through my mind. I violently recoiled, dodging his touch. I blindly navigated my way into the guest bedroom and locked the door behind me. Mason furiously pounded on the wood. I completely ignored him and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. When I woke up the next morning and opened the door, Mason was standing there with his arms crossed, radiating a freezing anger. I knew he was furious. But I looked right through him, treating him like empty air. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and walked right out the door to handle my own business. 3 I went straight to my office and handed in my resignation. The job paid garbage and the workload was miserable. If it weren't for the fact that the office was located right next to Mason's building, I would have quit years ago. I was completely done suffering for his convenience. My manager tried begging me to stay, but my mind was made up. A few weeks ago, I finally received an answer to a resume I had sent out on a whim. I was offered a highly lucrative executive position at a globally recognized tech firm. This company had always been my absolute dream. I had actually rejected an initial interview with them a year ago just to stay close to Mason. Thankfully, life gave me a second chance, and it wasn't too late. After finalizing my two weeks' notice, I handed off my remaining projects and called my girls to plan a celebration. My friends were thrilled for me. But after a moment of cheering, one of them asked the inevitable question. "What about Mason? Is he relocating with you?" I laughed softly into the receiver. "No. He's staying here. It's just going to be me. I'm going to end things with him." With my work transition handled, I started organizing my visa and immigration documents. I didn't have any parents. In this country, aside from my small circle of friends, Mason was all I had left. I used to foolishly believe that wherever Mason was, that was my home. But now, Mason had become someone else's home. I was a stray. A piece of driftwood floating aimlessly, ready to let the current take me wherever I was meant to go. When I returned to the apartment, Mason was right in the middle of getting ready to leave. His hair was perfectly styled. He was wearing brand new designer leather shoes and a tailored suit that highlighted his athletic build perfectly. In his hand, he carefully held an exquisite, custom-made artisan cake. I knew exactly what today was. Today was Stella's birthday. Mason was heading out to celebrate with her. He was on the phone. When he saw me, he held up a finger, signaling me to stay quiet. Then, his voice melted into absolute adoration. "Be good, okay? I got you everything you wanted. I know exactly what you like. Nothing is too expensive for you, babe." I didn't know what the person on the other end of the line said, but Mason let out a rare, genuine laugh. His eyes were overflowing with tenderness. Seeing a smile like that directed at me would have been a miracle. He just kept smiling, acting as if I didn't even exist. But the second he hung up and locked eyes with me, his brow furrowed, and every trace of joy vanished from his face. He granted Stella's every single wish. He went above and beyond for her. Yet he couldn't even spare a basic smile for the woman he lived with. His expression turned dark and gloomy. Without saying a single word, he pushed past me with an aura of total disgust. He refused to stay in the same room as me for even a second longer. The front door slammed shut, loud and aggressive. I knew exactly what this was. Mason was punishing me. He was initiating a cold war. And just like every single time before, it was all because of Stella. In the past, I would have broken down. I would have swallowed my pride, begged for forgiveness, and practically slapped myself in the face to get him to talk to me again. Even when he openly showered Stella with affection right in front of me, I used to brainwash myself into accepting it, convincing myself that to love him meant loving his friends too. But right now, I felt nothing but perfect tranquility. I went to the kitchen and started looking up recipes for authentic pasta. I was moving overseas. I needed to start adapting my palate. 4 Just as I finished eating my homemade dinner, I scrolled past Stella's new post on Instagram. The caption read: "To be loved is to never go to sleep crying." The comments section was flooded by Mason's entire friend group. "Damn, Mason! Sneaking off to spoil your girl again!" I scrolled through the replies. Every single one of his guys was hyping her up. Mason's friends had always looked down on me. They genuinely believed I was the toxic third wheel standing in the way of Mason and Stella's epic romance. They firmly believed that if I weren't in the picture, Mason's life would be flawless. I looked at Mason's reply to the thread. His friends were absolutely right. Without me, he really would be happier. Mason had replied: "True love conquers all. The right person will always be standing in your future." I watched them flirt back and forth like a pair of dramatic high schoolers. The comments were flooded with heart emojis. Then, Zack, one of Mason's closest friends, chimed in with a teasing comment. "You guys better tone it down. Aren't you worried Harper will see this? She's obsessively in love with you, bro. Aren't you scared she'll throw a massive fit?" I had politely reminded Mason on countless occasions to establish some boundaries with Stella. It was just basic respect to prevent exactly this kind of humiliating gossip. But his friends always called me a classless, uncultured nag. They told me I acted like his mother, and if I was so desperate to control a man, I should just go birth a son of my own instead of treating Mason like a child. Mason never defended me. He silently endorsed their insults, turning around to verbally abuse me himself, claiming my petty jealousy would ruin his reputation. I didn't fly into a hysterical rage. I didn't call him to scream. I just kept casually scrolling through TikTok, listening to music until I naturally drifted off to sleep. When Mason finally came home, I was deep in a pleasant dream. He grabbed my shoulders and violently shook me awake. He glared down at me, his voice dripping with venom. "Harper, do you honestly not give a damn about me anymore?! I was out in the city the entire night. Zack's fiancée was blowing up his phone every ten minutes checking on him. And you? Radio silence! What the hell is your problem? You never used to act like this!" 5 I rubbed my sleepy eyes, completely baffled by his unhinged temper tantrum. Whenever I used to text him asking when he would be home, he would completely lose his mind. He used to scream at me, "Can you rein in your psychotic control issues?! I am a grown man! I need freedom! Don't you think you're suffocating me?!" Now that I was giving him exactly what he asked for, he was claiming I was the villain. I honestly couldn't comprehend his twisted logic. I didn't bother dragging up the past. I just gave him a cold, flat response. "You're out drinking, networking, and providing for us. Wouldn't you be annoyed if I was constantly breathing down your neck? Plus, you said it yourself. You and Stella are strictly platonic. What could I possibly have to be suspicious or worried about?" Mason looked visibly stunned by my sudden display of "maturity." Or maybe he was just shocked that I could say Stella's name without descending into hysterics. He gave a slow nod, awkwardly trying to justify himself. "That Instagram comment was just to make Stella feel better on her birthday. Don't take what my friends say to heart." I stared blankly at the edge of the blanket, about to speak, but Mason cut me off. "What is with your attitude? Are you still holding a grudge because I went to her birthday dinner? She has a pure heart. She's incredibly innocent. Yes, we've shared a bed before, and yes, we share drinks, but we have never done anything to betray you. We are best friends. If I didn't show up for my best friend's birthday, wouldn't that make me garbage?" I closed my eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. "I understand. You did the right thing. It's incredibly late. You should get some sleep." Mason fell completely silent. His dark, glittering eyes locked onto my face, desperately trying to test if I was secretly holding back a volcanic rage. After thirty seconds, he gave up. He reached out, trying to pull me into a hug. I immediately took a step back, dodging his hands. "We should sleep in separate rooms," I said evenly. "You must be exhausted from partying all night. I don't want to disturb your rest." 6 Mason looked completely lost for a second. Was I actively rejecting him? I had never done anything like this before. Frustrated and deeply annoyed, he slammed the bedroom door and stormed out, leaving me alone in the master suite. The moment the door clicked shut, I went straight back to sleep. Ever since I killed every last ounce of hope I had for Mason, the quality of my sleep had skyrocketed. At six o'clock the next evening, I received a surprise call from my old college mentor, Professor Davis. He had somehow found out I was relocating overseas. He insisted on taking me out to dinner to see me off. I tried to politely decline, not wanting to inconvenience him, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He wanted to organize a farewell dinner with a bunch of my old classmates. Faced with his overwhelming generosity, I couldn't bring myself to refuse. But what I entirely failed to anticipate was that Mason would be sitting at the restaurant table when I arrived. I lowered my eyes, a self-deprecating smile touching my lips. I had completely forgotten that Mason was also one of Professor Davis's former students. And sitting right next to Mason, with a radiant, victorious smile on her face, was Stella. He actually brought her to my college reunion. They truly couldn't stand to be apart for a single second. When Mason caught sight of me, he started aggressively gesturing with his eyes, signaling me to take the empty seat beside him. I looked right through him. They looked like the perfect, sickeningly sweet couple. It was better for me not to interrupt their little fantasy and make a nuisance of myself. Stella made eye contact with me from across the table, offering a fake, plastic smile. Then, she stood up, smoothed out her dress, and walked over to me, putting on a sickeningly sweet, innocent voice. "Harper, you don't mind that I crashed your little reunion, do you? If my presence makes you unhappy, I can leave right now. I was just so bored at home, and Mason insisted on bringing me along so I wouldn't be lonely." Mason looked at Stella with profound admiration, clearly incredibly satisfied with her polite little speech. When he looked at me, his eyes were brimming with smug superiority. I smoothed down the edge of my skirt and stood up. "Professor Davis organized this dinner. Naturally, I don't mind at all." I sat back down and focused entirely on my food. During the appetizers, my phone started vibrating relentlessly in my purse. I pulled it out. It was a flood of texts from Mason. "I only brought her out of the goodness of my heart. There are absolutely no romantic feelings involved." "If you're upset, I apologize." I scrolled down to the very last message. "When dinner is over, I'm driving you home. Wait for me." I took a slow sip of my orange juice, typed out a reply, and hit send. "You should drive Stella. I took my own car. It's not safe for a fragile girl like her to go home alone in the dark." I switched my phone to silent, shoved it back into my bag, and devoted my full attention to the garlic butter crab and roasted chicken, completely tuning Mason out of existence. The dinner was a massive success. The table was full of laughter and nostalgic stories. Professor Davis's face was flushed red from the wine. He stood up at the head of the table, raising his glass high in my direction. "Harper, you were always my most promising student. When you first asked me to be your advisor, you told me your ultimate dream was to work overseas. But after graduation, you lost your drive and chose to stay anchored here." He paused, a deeply emotional smile spreading across his face. "But thankfully, you found your way back to the path! You're finally moving! You are finally chasing your dream, and I couldn't be more proud of you! Here's to a brilliant, shining future!" Tears welled up in my eyes. I was so incredibly moved that he still remembered my ambitions and was cheering me on. Meanwhile, Mason was staring at me with a look of pure, devastated shock. He had absolutely no idea I was leaving the country.
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