1 After seven years apart, I quit my job and moved back to share an apartment with Johnny. I entered the door code three times, each attempt rejected. When the door opened, it wasn’t Johnny but my best friend Gigi standing there, wearing his button-down shirt that barely covered her thighs. “Sera! You’re back?” Her smile was casual. “Had a fight with my roommates, so I’ve been crashing here.” Johnny emerged from the bathroom. “Stop blocking the door,” he snapped. “Gigi takes the master bedroom. You’re in the guest room tonight.” Irritation masked his face, but his familiar inner voice rang clear in my mind. [We’ve been apart so long. Have you fallen for someone else? Sera, say this is our place. Tell her to leave. Make a scene. Show you care.] For seven years, this was his pattern. Late replies meant dinners with Gigi. Missed weekends meant she stayed over. Before, I would have cried, demanded answers, thrown the tantrum he craved. This time, my eyes caught the pink towel around his waist and the lace bra on the balcony. The questions died in my throat. I stepped back, gripped my suitcase, and turned away. A home built for three was not mine to claim. 2 Gigi reached out, grabbing the edge of my suitcase. "Sera, come on. It's just a locked door. You're not actually mad, are you?" She pouted. "Don't overthink it. I kept forgetting the old code, so Johnny changed it to my birthday." Johnny let out a sharp scoff. "She's just being dramatic. It's a bunch of numbers. Who cares if they change?" His face showed nothing but contempt, but his inner voice grew louder, panic-stricken. [Say something! Say that the old code was our anniversary. Tell me I'm not allowed to change it.] [Sera, why aren't you reacting at all?] I remained silent. Gigi leaned against the doorframe, letting out a soft yawn. "Are you coming in or what? We're heading to bed soon." I pulled my copy of the keys from my purse and set them quietly on the console near the door. "No, thanks. Get some sleep." Johnny froze. "Fine, if you're not coming in, then get lost!" he snarled, slamming the door shut with a deafening bang. The force of it made me stumble backward. My handbag slipped from my shoulder, spilling its contents onto the cold hallway floor. A stack of old train tickets slid across the tiles. The one on top was dated exactly seven years ago. On the day I was transferred to the regional office, Johnny had walked me to the platform. The boarding announcement had chimed three times before he finally let go of me. "Go on, Sera," he had said, his tone breezy. "Don't look back." But in that exact second, I heard his inner voice for the very first time. [Sera, I don't want you to go.] [But I can't hold you back.] [I love you. Please wait for me.] I had frozen at the turnstile, tears blurring my vision. After that, during those long-distance years, I took that five-hour train ride countless times. Even when I worked past midnight, I would rush to catch the red-eye just to see him. Until the time I pulled back-to-back all-nighters, fainted at my desk, and missed the train. The second I woke up in the hospital bed, I called him. It took seven attempts before he finally picked up. "I'm having dinner with Gigi," he said, his voice freezing cold. "What are you crying for? You didn't have time for me, so I found someone who did. She's your best friend, isn't she? With her keeping an eye on me, you shouldn't have anything to worry about." That night, Gigi posted three updates on social media: hot pot, a dimly lit bar, and the city streets at three in the morning. Meanwhile, I lay alone in a sterile hospital room, a cold IV drip running into my arm all night. A tear fell onto the old paper ticket in my hand. I tried to wipe it away, but the ink only smudged, leaving a dark, permanent stain. 3 The apartment door swung open again. "If you're too stubborn to leave, then get your ass inside," Johnny muttered. Seeing the tears on my face, the harsh edge in his expression softened slightly. "How many days do you have off this time?" I didn't tell him that I had quit my job permanently. There was no point. I had sacrificed my career progression just to end seven years of long-distance. Yet here he was, already playing house with Gigi. Gigi walked out of the bathroom with a fresh towel. She reached up and began drying his hair with practiced ease. Johnny didn't pull away; he actually leaned down to make it easier for her. His silent thoughts claimed he loved me, but his body had long since adapted to Gigi's touch. This apartment had no room left for me. The tickets remained scattered on the floor. I didn't bother picking them up as I walked toward the elevator. Johnny let out a cold laugh behind me. "Sera, if you walk out that door today, we are done." I pressed the down button. I didn't look back. His inner voice suddenly descended into chaos. [Sera, don't go. I just wanted to make you jealous.] [Just turn around, and I'll make it up to you. I promise.] The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside. [Please, don't leave.] I heard him. But this time, I didn't hesitate. The metal doors slowly slid shut, slicing his desperate face from my view and cutting off the frantic echoes of his mind. Right then, my phone vibrated. It was Mr. Ward, the director from corporate headquarters. "Sera, the position at headquarters is still open for you. Have you made up your mind?" I wiped my cheeks and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Mr. Ward, I'll report for duty tomorrow morning." 4 I checked into a cheap hotel for the night. The next morning, a call from the apartment building's management woke me. "Miss Seraphina, the large shipping crates you sent ahead are piled up right outside the main lobby entrance. Tenants are complaining about the blockage. Could you please clear them out immediately?" When I set out for this city, I had planned on never leaving. I had packed up seven years of my life and shipped it all ahead of me. The boxes had arrived, but just like me, they had nowhere to go. I rushed back to Johnny's apartment complex through the pouring rain. But when I arrived at the entrance, the pavement was bare. Gigi was just about to head inside, wearing a pair of plush slippers. "Sera, what took you so long? Those boxes were completely blocking the doorway." She pointed toward the communal dumpster area at the back of the building. "Johnny said the two of you broke up, and that your stuff was just junk. So, I did you a favor and tossed it." My ears rang with a deafening buzz. I spun on my heel and sprinted toward the dumpsters. The cardboard boxes had turned to mush in the rain. My belongings were scattered across the wet asphalt, soaking in filthy puddles. I dropped to my knees, frantically digging through the wet trash until my fingers brushed against a sodden, stuffed puppy. It was bloated with rainwater, one of its button eyes missing. It was the very first gift Johnny had ever given me. Over the last seven years, whenever the distance grew too hard to bear, this toy was my only comfort. Last year, when I was hospitalized with a fractured leg after a minor car accident, Johnny had booked a flight to see me. But then Gigi sprained her ankle. Over the phone, his voice had been rushed. "I'll come after her ankle heals, okay?" I had spent that agonizing night unable to sleep, clutching this little stuffed dog until dawn. I squeezed the wet toy to my chest. Nearby, a pair of black heels caught my eye, one of the heels snapped clean off. I bought those six months ago. That day, a colleague had maliciously deleted my project files. I had hidden in the office courtyard, sobbing until I couldn't breathe. I had called Johnny repeatedly, but he hadn't answered until after midnight. "What's wrong now?" he had sighed. "Gigi had a fight with her roommates, and I just finished moving her into the apartment." The next morning, I went to the mall and bought those expensive heels. I told myself: Sera, stand tall. If no one is coming to bring you home, you walk back on your own two feet. For seven years, I survived the constant traveling and the crushing loneliness. These objects had been my anchors. And now, they were rotting in a pile of garbage. "Gigi, what gave you the right to throw my things away?" I screamed, my voice cracking. "Sera, why are you screaming at her?" Johnny's voice boomed from behind me. He stepped forward, holding a large umbrella over Gigi's head. "It's just a few boxes of useless junk. What's the big deal?" Gigi looked at my tear-stained face and burst into soft, dramatic tears. "I thought you didn't want any of this anymore, Sera." Surveying the ruined keepsakes littering the wet ground, Johnny's expression darkened. His inner thoughts began crashing into my mind. [Why are there so many boxes?] [I thought she was only visiting for a few days.] [The stuffed puppy... she kept it all this time?] His eyes drifted to the wet toy in my arms, but the words that slipped past his lips were cold and biting. "You dumped your things at my place after we broke up. If that's not trash, I don't know what is." I clutched the wet puppy tighter, looking him dead in the eye. "Johnny, my things aren't garbage. You are." The downpour blurred my vision as a crowd began to gather around the trash area. Several neighbors whispered among themselves. "Isn't that the young couple from upstairs? They've been living together for at least six months. I always see them grocery shopping together." Another neighbor glared at me, her voice dripping with disgust. "Then who is she? Some crazy ex-girlfriend making a scene? Maybe she's a side chick trying to cause trouble? Digging through the trash like that... how pathetic." A sharp pain pierced through my already numb heart. Six months. They had been living together for half a year, sharing groceries, walking home under the same umbrella, playing the part of a devoted couple in the eyes of everyone else. Meanwhile, I had spent seven years in a legitimate relationship, only to end up branded as a desperate homewrecker digging through garbage. Johnny's face turned incredibly pale, yet he didn't offer a single word of explanation. Gigi reached out and gently tugged on his sleeve. "Johnny, let's just go inside," she murmured. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then held the umbrella over her as he guided her through the glass doors of the lobby. I stood alone in the freezing rain, watching their retreating figures. His inner voice grew fainter with every step they took. [Sera isn't a side chick.] [She's the only one I've ever loved.] I tuned the noise out. The rain came down in sheets. I knelt back down on the wet pavement, ripping open the soggy cardboard to search for the antique pocket watch my grandmother had left me. But even after digging through every single box, it was nowhere to be found. The cold had seeped deep into my bones, and my vision began to tilt and fade to black. 5 When I opened my eyes, I was lying in an unfamiliar guest room. Gigi was sitting on the edge of the mattress, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Sera, you fainted out there. I had Johnny carry you upstairs," she said, gently tucking the blanket around my shoulders. "Don't listen to what those neighbors said. I went back down and set them straight. I told them you're not a side chick. I said we're close friends, and you were planning on moving in with me. I explained that since the apartment belongs to Johnny, and he's my boyfriend now, it just caused a little misunderstanding." Her voice was soft and sincere, as if she were my savior. But all I could think of was our sophomore year of college. When my financial aid grant was stolen by another student, Gigi had marched with me straight to the dean's office. "I absolutely loathe manipulative thieves who steal from others and then act like the victim!" she had spat. She had been angrier than I was. Yet now, as she declared Johnny was her boyfriend, she wore that exact same mask of pure, unblemished innocence. Gigi used to look down on Johnny, sneering at him whenever his name came up. But gradually, imperceptibly, she had started calling him Johnny with a soft familiarity. She began wearing his jackets, meeting him for private dinners, and going on trips alone with him. I hadn't been completely blind to her overstepping boundaries, but she was my best friend, and Johnny had constantly told me I was overthinking things. Back then, his inner voice would constantly reassure me: [Sera, I only love you.] And so, I had forced myself to swallow the discomfort time and time again. But I was done playing blind. "Cut the act, Gigi," I said, pushing myself up against the headboard. "Where are my credentials?" I was supposed to report to headquarters today. The copies of my files had been ruined in the rain, but since I had considered this apartment my home, I kept all my original diplomas and certifications here. Gigi blinked. "I have no idea. Why don't you look around?" I ignored her, throwing off the covers and stepping out of bed. The master bedroom was officially her room now, but Johnny's shirts hung alongside her dresses in the closet. My own clothes had been stuffed into the deepest corner, crumpled and forgotten. Gigi trailed behind me, whispering, "He only sleeps in here when he gets too drunk." I didn't care what they did in this bed. I just wanted my papers. I pulled open the nightstand drawer. There was no folder inside. Instead, my eyes landed on three boxes of condoms. One box was missing compared to the last time I had visited. My hand froze for a fraction of a second. I forced myself to look away. On the small vanity table nearby lay a greasy, uncleaned delivery box. Gigi let out a sudden gasp, as if remembering something. "Oh, Sera, is this what you were looking for?" She lifted the greasy plastic takeout container. Underneath it lay my hard-earned college diploma, the leather cover smeared with thick, orange chili oil. Gigi bit her lip. "I'm so sorry. I was eating takeout in here last night and needed something sturdy to prop up the container. I didn't realize." I snatched it from her hands and flipped it open. The certificate inside was thoroughly soaked in grease, the official embossed seal stained and smelling of stale, spicy food. "Sera, don't be ungrateful!" Johnny barked, storming into the room and positioning himself protectively in front of Gigi. "Gigi was nice enough to let you stay here. It's just a piece of paper. Was it really necessary to get physical with her?" I didn't bother defending myself. Staring at the ruined document, my mind raced with a single, urgent thought: How do I replace this in time? Suddenly, a familiar ringtone broke the silence. It was my phone, but the sound was coming from Gigi's pocket. By the time I snatched it out of her grasp, the call had already disconnected. On the screen was a text message from Mr. Ward, sent ten minutes ago. [The meeting was scheduled for now. Where are you?] I hadn't even seen the text, but there was already a reply sent from my number: [I've decided to decline the transfer offer.] My head snapped up, my gaze locking onto Gigi. "Who gave you permission to text my boss?" She didn't look remotely remorseful. "Sera, I did it for your own good." I didn't waste time arguing. I hit dial, calling Mr. Ward immediately. "Mr. Ward, that message wasn't from me. I haven't declined the position." The line went quiet for a few seconds. "We've already initiated the backup candidate process," Mr. Ward's voice was professional but firm. "Sera, if you still want this job, you need to be in my office in thirty minutes." I hung up and bolted for the door. Gigi chased after me. "Sera, don't do something stupid!" she cried. "If you run off to see this older male executive right now, Johnny is going to get the wrong idea." Johnny's face hardened as he caught up to us. "What director?" Gigi gave a small, theatrical flinch. "The male boss who kept the headquarters position open for her," she whispered. "He promised Sera that if she came back, he'd handle her promotion, housing, and stipends. I only sent the text because I was worried she was getting taken advantage of!" Johnny's expression turned incredibly dark. He stepped directly into my path, blocking the exit. "Sera, are you seriously throwing away your self-respect for some corporate housing? What are you running off to do? Show him what you're worth? Sleep your way to the top?" I glanced at my phone. Twenty-seven minutes left. "Get out of my way," I said, pushing past him. The elevator display showed it was down for maintenance. I lunged for the heavy door to the stairwell. Gigi's voice echoed behind me. "Johnny, stop her! What if that boss tries to take advantage of her?" I had barely cleared the first landing when Johnny caught up, his fingers clamping down on my wrist like iron cuffs. "Sera, you're not going anywhere today." I thrashed against his grip, desperate to break free. "Johnny, let go of me! You have no right!" His eyes flashed with anger, and he tightened his hold. Wincing from the pain, I instinctively tried to pull back. But my heel caught on the edge of the concrete step behind me. My foot slipped into empty air. The next second, I was tumbling backward, crashing violently down the concrete flight of stairs until I slammed hard against the brick wall of the lower landing. Darkness threatened to swallow me as a blinding, agonizing pain flared through my body. Johnny stood frozen on the steps above, his face pale with horror. [Sera!] [I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to.] I couldn't tell where the blood was coming from. Everything just hurt. The pain was absolute, crushing. But the worst of the pain hadn't happened just now. It was the moment I arrived with my suitcases, believing I was finally coming home, only to find another woman living in my place. It was kneeling on the wet pavement, digging through trash to retrieve a ruined stuffed dog. My eyes were open, but I couldn't form a single word. Johnny stumbled down the stairs, falling to his knees beside me. "Sera..." [Please get up. Don't look at me like that. Don't lie there.] [I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just terrified you didn't love me anymore.] [If you don't love me, I'd rather die.] He reached out to touch my cheek, but his hand froze mid-air. For the very first time, the silent voice of my mind echoed clearly in his head. [Johnny.] [Go to hell.]
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