My boyfriend said he had to do one hundred little things for his first love, and once he was done, he’d come back to me. On the night of our seventh anniversary. My boyfriend, Declan, proposed to his first love, Sienna. He did it with 999 red roses and the exact Tiffany ring I had been dreaming of for years. His group of frat-boy friends went crazy liking the post on Instagram, leaving comments saying they were "born for each other." I silently typed a comment under that viral video: "I wish you both happiness." Declan called me almost immediately. His tone was dripping with impatience. "Harper, stop making a scene. This is just the 99th thing on the list. Once I do the last one, I’ll come back." ... The video of Declan standing in a sea of flowers proposing to Sienna had been filmed by countless bystanders. It was uploaded to TikTok and Instagram, trending instantly. The comments section was filled with strangers praising them as the perfect couple, saying "true love always finds a way." I clutched my stomach, which was cramping from hunger. I stared at the steak dinner in front of me that had gone stone cold hours ago. My heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. Today was supposed to be our seventh anniversary. Ever since Sienna came back into the picture, Declan and I had been drifting apart. I had planned to have one final, serious talk with him tonight. He had promised me that today would be Sienna-free. Just the two of us. This morning, he even bought my favorite Napa Valley Cabernet. But this afternoon, he suddenly texted saying there was an emergency at the startup. He said he’d be late and told me to wait for him. So, I sat at the dining table from 6:00 PM until 1:00 AM. I never expected that while I waited, I’d be watching a livestream of him passionately proposing to another woman. Mechanically, I chewed on a piece of cold, tough steak and opened Sienna’s Instagram. In her latest Story, Sienna was blushing, standing on her tiptoes to whisper something in Declan’s ear. "For the last thing," she whispered, "I want you to propose to me right now. And then kiss me." Declan froze for a second. But then, without hesitation, he dropped to one knee and pulled out the ring box he had prepared long ago. "Sienna, will you marry me?" I stared at the ring in his hand, completely stunned. A few days ago, I found that little blue box in his jacket pocket. I thought it was my anniversary surprise. After all, I was still wearing the simple silver band he gave me when we were broke and launching his tech startup in Silicon Valley. I remember the first time I put on that silver ring. He hugged me, his eyes red with tears. "Harper, I’m sorry you have to suffer with me. I swear, one day, I’ll buy you a ring ten thousand times better than this." I smiled and told him, "Then I want a Tiffany." I told him I wanted him to belong only to me for the rest of his life. He promised me everything back then. It turns out, the Tiffany ring was for Sienna. No wonder he snatched the box away so nervously when I said "I love this" the other day. He lied and said his buddy Brody was storing it with him for a proposal. In the video, Sienna covered her mouth, moved. She extended her slender fingers and nodded gently. "Declan, I do." The silver ring Declan used to wear was gone. There was only a faint tan line on his ring finger where it used to be. After slipping the ring onto Sienna’s finger, they embraced and kissed deeply while his friends cheered in the background. I picked up my phone and dialed Declan’s number. Sienna answered. She only got out a "Hello?" before the phone was snatched away by Declan. I heard her mutter unhappily in the background, "I’m going to go take a shower first." So, they proposed, kissed, and went straight to a hotel room. Terrifyingly efficient. Declan’s voice was icy cold. "What is it?" I pressed my lips together. He clearly didn't know he was already viral on the internet. "Where are you?"
"I'm working overtime at the office. If you have something to say, make it quick." He seemed to walk away from the bathroom, and the sound of the shower faded slightly. My eyes were still fixed on the paused video of them kissing. "Declan, let's break up." "Harper, I am really busy right now. I don't have time to play these games with you." He paused, his tone shifting to a warning. "I'm serious." After saying that, I hung up. ... I packed my luggage and checked straight into a hotel. I slept until eight o'clock the next morning. When I turned on my phone, a string of texts from Declan popped up. "Didn't I tell you I'd be late? Where the hell did you go to mess around?" "I've been exhausted all night, and you just have to make a scene?" "Don't tell me this is about Sienna again." Because I hadn't replied for so long, his later texts obviously lost patience. I didn't know if he was too busy to scroll through his phone or if he had turned off all social media notifications. I didn't reply to his messages. I silently added him to my block list. Honestly, I should have done this a long time ago. Ever since Sienna showed up with that notebook where Declan had written down "100 Things To Do For Her" years ago, he granted her every wish. I couldn't understand it, so I cried and fought. But Declan said it was a promise he made after Sienna saved his life in the ocean years ago. He claimed it had nothing to do with love; he just wanted to honor his word. Back then, I didn't realize the severity of the situation, and I couldn't bear to let go of our seven-year relationship. So, I was forced to accept it. I accepted everything. From Declan going out to buy tampons for Sienna, to accompanying her to bars late at night when she was sad. He even went on a spontaneous road trip with her. And I had to swallow all the grievances and sadness alone. I watched my boyfriend go through fire and water for another woman. If I raised even a single question, he would call me "petty," "immature," or "jealous and mean." The funny thing is, I actually thought that once he paid off his "debt" to Sienna, we could go back to how we were. It wasn't until now that I clearly saw how ridiculously wrong I was.
After deciding to give up on Declan, my work efficiency skyrocketed. My manager asked if I wanted to compete for a spot in the London transfer program. I was a bit stunned. It wasn't until he emailed me the company's talent development plan that I realized what was happening. Leaving work that evening, I walked out of the office building and saw Declan’s tall figure standing downstairs. He attracted quite a few glances from my colleagues. In the past, I would have run over proudly to hug him and claim him as mine. But now, I pretended not to see him and turned to walk away. He caught up in a few strides, calling my name as he ran. I dodged the hand he reached out to grab me with, stopping to look at him. I used to love his hugs and kisses, enjoying those simple intimacies. He seemed surprised that I dodged him. His hand hung in mid-air, and his expression turned cold. "I've barely talked to Sienna lately because of you. What are you angry about now?" "Nothing. There are a lot of people here after work, I don't want to make a scene," I said calmly, making up an excuse. He studied me for a moment. Once he was sure I wasn't throwing a tantrum, he put his hand back in his pocket and smiled. "Shy?" There was a hint of smugness in his eyes. His tone softened, which was rare. "I was so busy yesterday I forgot our anniversary. I'll take you out for a good meal tonight." I wanted to refuse, but more and more colleagues were looking over. I was in a critical period for the overseas transfer, and I didn't want personal drama affecting my career. I had no choice but to get in the car. When I walked to the passenger side, he opened the door for me. Immediately, I saw a Polaroid of Sienna stuck to the vanity mirror. Written on it in sharpie was: Sienna's Exclusive Seat. Clipped to the photo was a strand of curly brown hair. Declan casually tore the photo off, plucked the hair, and threw them away. "Sienna was just pranking. Don't mind it." "It's fine." I silently closed the passenger door and walked to the back seat myself. He looked at me in shock. Only when I reminded him to unlock the back did he react. Sitting in the car, I saw a pair of black stockings stuffed in the corner. The scent of Sienna's favorite rose perfume lingered in the air. I could pretend not to see the stockings. But I am allergic to rose pollen. I couldn't help but sneeze twice in a row. Declan remembered this too and quickly rolled down the windows to air it out. Through the rearview mirror, I noticed his eyes looked uneasy. He opened his mouth several times but said nothing. This was the first time since Sienna returned that I observed him so calmly. On his wrist, he was wearing a light pink hair tie—Sienna's favorite. There were faint lipstick marks on his collar. On his shirt cuff, a small letter "S" was embroidered in pink thread. His wallet was tossed casually on the passenger seat. If I remembered correctly, opening it would reveal a selfie of him and Sienna. Not to mention the little trinkets—lipsticks, mirrors, stickers—that he never allowed me to keep in his car. Now, Sienna's things were scattered everywhere. Those "100 little things" had infiltrated every aspect of our lives like an invisible web, strangling me. I had been avoiding these details for so long. But now, looking at this version of Declan, soaked in Sienna's labels, I realized something. The things that used to make me toss and turn at night could no longer hurt me. Even if they gathered into steel needles and stabbed me, I felt nothing. Fresh air filled the car, and my nose slowly felt better. I rubbed my nose and took the bottled water he handed me, squeezing the plastic unconsciously. Seeing my expression return to normal, he quietly sighed in relief. "I'm glad you understand. I'm done with what I promised Sienna. Just be good, stop being so paranoid." Is it really... done? Thinking of Sienna's Instagram and the congratulations from his frat brothers, I felt incredibly bored. "Mhm," I gave a muffled, perfunctory response. We didn't speak again. Just as I was dozing off, the screeching sound of emergency brakes woke me up. I looked at him in confusion. He had just ended a call, looking torn. "Sienna says her stomach hurts really bad. How about we drop her at the ER first, then go eat?" I looked at the sunset glowing outside the window. The last shred of illusion in my heart shattered completely. He and Sienna would never end. The one who needed to end things completely was me. I shook my head. "No need. You go. I'm a bit tired from work, I want to rest early." "Don't overthink it, I'm just afraid something will happen to her." "I know. Just drop me off at the intersection past this suburban highway." I thought what I said was perfectly reasonable. But he suddenly turned to look at me, furious. "Sienna is crying from pain, do you have to be so passive-aggressive? Even if you're jealous, that's a human life! Do you only want to be happy if she dies?" I looked at him indifferently. "I didn't say anything. I didn't stop you from going to her. Why are you dragging this to me wanting her dead?" He choked on my question, seemingly too lazy to argue further. "Either come to the hospital with me or get out now." "What?" I blurted out subconsciously. We were on a loop highway around the city. Getting out here meant walking for at least two hours to get an Uber. And I was wearing high heels. He completely lost patience and slammed the car door shut. Then he roughly dragged me out of the back seat. "Reflect on yourself!" He drove off, leaving me standing in a cloud of dust. I stood blankly on the roadside, my eyes tearing up against my will. ... When I got back to the hotel, the skin on my heels was rubbed raw, and I had two bloody blisters on my soles. I popped them with a needle, the pain making my nose sting. After bandaging the wounds, I sat eating a burrito I picked up from Chipotle. My mom called, asking how Declan and I were doing lately. I held the phone, my hand unconsciously picking at the takeout box. Tears finally couldn't be held back, dropping plip-plop into my rice. "We're good." "That's good, that's good. Do you have enough money? Is Declan treating you well?" "I have enough. He treats me very well." My throat felt like it was blocked with wet cotton. I made up an excuse to end the call. A moment later, Mom transferred me two thousand dollars. Note: Harper, keep this money. Your dad and I don't need much at home. My last bit of strength collapsed. I bit my lip and sobbed out loud. Through blurred vision, I sent the money back. Text: No need, Mom. Did you forget? Declan is a successful entrepreneur now. He treats me well and loves spending money on me. Actually, my job in San Francisco isn't far from my parents' home in Oakland. But to take care of Declan, I hadn't gone back to visit them in a long time. I made a silent decision. Once the transfer was settled, I would go home and spend real time with them. While I was lost in thought, Declan called from a different number. "Are your feet okay? You should really learn from Sienna. Stop being so jealous and competitive." He opened with his typical tactic: a slap followed by a piece of candy. It was his go-to method for manipulating me all these years. Punish me, then offer symbolic concern. Usually, I would feel like I was the unreasonable one, beg for his forgiveness, and thank him for his "tolerance." When he didn't hear my apology after a long silence, he was surprised. He called my name. "Mhm," I responded. He continued, "Sienna's stomach really hurts." Realizing my reaction was off, he actually explained, which was rare. "The doctor said it's a stomach ulcer. She needs an IV drip. How about... I order you some takeout?" I swallowed the burrito in my mouth. "No need. I already ate." Declan fell silent, probably not knowing what else to say. On the other end of the line, Sienna whimpered twice. He said, "I gotta go," and hung up. After the call, I opened Sienna's Instagram. Her latest Story was updated three minutes ago. In the video, Declan was gently holding her, rubbing her stomach. The background was the living room of Sienna's apartment. I stuffed another mouthful of rice into my mouth and silently blocked this number too.
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