When Tyler and I first started dating, he told me we’d get married as soon as we drove across the entire country together. For the first four years, we made it to ninety-nine percent of our goal. But in our fifth year, his college ex, Gwen, became his coworker. After that, our final destination—Lake Tahoe, the place we had sworn we’d finally get our marriage license—was planned ten times. And canceled ten times. The day before our sixth anniversary, I finally took matters into my own hands. I booked a cabin and a guided tour package for the two of us and sent him the confirmation. Poking him playfully in the chest, I teased, "If you make my parents wait around for us there again, don't even think about showing your face at Sunday dinner." Tyler didn’t even look up from his phone. "Cancel it. I don’t have the time. Tomorrow I’m helping Gwen pick up her new kitten, next week I’m taking her to the vet for its checkup, in ten days she wants to see that concert, and at the end of the month... she gets terrible cramps, and she needs someone around to take care of her." He Venmoed me the cancellation fee, adding a casual line: "Next time, check with me before you book anything. Let's make sure it doesn't clash with Gwen's schedule." I froze, staring at the screen. He could remember Gwen’s menstrual cycle down to the day. Yet he couldn’t remember what my parents had said on the phone just forty-eight hours ago: "If you two don't get married by your anniversary, Cassidy, you might as well come back home and let us set you up with someone else." I declined the Venmo transfer and changed the destination of my flight ticket to my hometown. Fine. I won't waste your precious time anymore. … "Why did you send the money back? Not enough? I can send you more." I locked my screen. "Don't worry about it." He glanced up, his expression entirely devoid of curiosity. He didn't ask why. His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "She doesn't really have anyone else out here. It's only right that I look out for her. We can go on a trip anytime, Cassidy. There's no need to make a big deal out of this." It sounded like an explanation, but it was actually a warning. A gentle reminder not to make a scene. This was the tenth time he’d said some variation of this. The last time we were about to leave, Gwen’s kitchen pipe burst. Tyler said he’d just run over to help her find a plumber and come right back. But he ended up playing handyman himself, rolling up his sleeves and coming home two hours late, making us miss our flight. The time before that, the night before our departure, Gwen had to pull an all-nighter at the office because of a botched proposal. He said he’d just stop by to offer some pointers and head home. But he ended up staying all night to finish the project for her. His phone died, and he didn't answer a single one of my calls. The very first time it happened, I told him straight out that I was hurt. He told me I was overthinking, getting jealous over ancient history, and twisting his good intentions. Every time after that, if I showed even a flicker of frustration, he’d meet it with quiet resentment, as if my hurt was an accusation of infidelity. I opened my mouth. "But my mom said this time—" "I don’t know, I think 'Lucky' sounds a bit generic," Tyler murmured into his phone, sending a voice note. "A female kitten needs something softer. Like 'Mimi' or 'Peaches'." He locked his screen and looked back at me. "What were you saying? But what?" The words died in my throat, leaving a heavy, suffocating weight in my chest. It wasn’t just that he’d cut me off. It was the endless, effortless patience he had for her—a patience he never seemed to spare for me. Whenever I asked him to look at wedding venues or photographer portfolios, he’d glance at them for two seconds and say, "Yeah, looks fine. Whatever you want, babe." But for Gwen, even a kitten's name deserved his undivided contemplation. It was so exhausting. "Nothing. Go back to what you were doing." I got up and headed toward the bedroom, but his hand shot out, catching my arm. "If something's on your mind, just say it. I honestly didn't hear you. I wasn't trying to ignore you." I took a slow, deep breath, looking into his eyes. They seemed so earnest, so sincere. But just as I opened my mouth to speak, his phone rang. It was Gwen. "Tyler, what was the name of that stomach medicine you bought me last time? My..." He bolted upright. "What’s wrong? Is your gastritis flaring up again? Hang on, don't hang up. I'm coming over right now!" He let go of my arm instantly, grabbing his shoes and scrambling into his jacket. He didn't look at me once before the door slammed shut. I stood there, feeling utterly hollowed out, surrounded by a heavy, stifling silence. I pulled out my phone and saw a text from the travel agent asking if I wanted to reschedule for next month. I slowly typed out my reply: "No, thank you. Cancel the trip permanently." This time, I was done waiting. When Tyler came home, I was out on the balcony, folding laundry. "Gwen’s stomach is really acting up, and she can't cook for herself. Delivery takes forever on the weekends, so she's going to hang out here today." Gwen peeked out from behind him, looking small and apologetic. "I’m so sorry, Cassidy. I told him I’d be fine, but he insisted on bringing me here. I hope I’m not intruding." Tyler smiled warmly. "Don't worry about it. Cass isn't the type to get petty over something like this." Then he turned to her. "What do you feel like eating? Still want some oatmeal?" Gwen nodded. "I'd love—" Before she could finish, Tyler blurted out, "A spoon of sugar, light on the oat, slow-cooked until it's completely smooth and velvety?" She looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "You still remember that? After all this time?" Tyler just smiled, offering no reply. But I already knew the answer. He kept quiet only because I was standing there, trying to avoid a fight over "insignificant details." After all, every time he cooked a dish with cilantro—which I absolutely detest—he would always say he forgot. I used to make excuses for him, telling myself his mind was simply too crowded with the demands of his job. Now, I saw the truth. The human brain only has so much room. He had filled his to the brim with Gwen, leaving nothing but scraps for me. A dull, persistent ache bloomed behind my ribs, heavy and suffocating. I couldn't stand watching their little domestic scene a moment longer. I walked back into the bedroom and started packing my bags. Halfway through, I stepped out to grab something from the hallway. They were already seated at the dining table. Gwen was sipping her oatmeal, and Tyler sat across from her, his gaze filled with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. "Slow down. It's hot." The warm, starchy scent of the oatmeal drifted through the air, and my stomach betrayingly growled. Gwen looked up at me with a sweet smile. "Come join us, Cassidy! Tyler makes the absolute best oatmeal." Before I could decline, the warmth drained from Tyler's face. "She doesn't like oatmeal," he said coldly. "She can just order takeout." My feet froze. "I don't like oatmeal?" Tyler rarely cooked for me. It was always takeout or dining out. On the rare occasions I was sick and craved oatmeal, whatever he made was either half-raw or scorched to the bottom of the pot. Over time, I simply stopped asking him to make it. Seeing me stand there frozen, Tyler's voice took on a warning, dismissive edge. "Her stomach is really sensitive today, Cass. She needs the oatmeal. Don't fight her on this. If you want some, I'll make you a batch another time." Tears stung my eyes. I took a sharp breath, marched straight to the entryway, and grabbed my coat with unnecessary force. "Don't bother. I'll eat out." He stood up, crossing the room with a deep furrow in his brow. "Do you have to be so passive-aggressive when we have a guest? You're going to make her feel too uncomfortable to ever come back." I let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Did you ever think about whether "I" feel comfortable in my own home?" "You tell me not to overthink, but every single thing you do is designed to cater to her, protecting "her" feelings while you walk all over mine. Do you even remember that I'm your girlfriend?" His jaw tightened, his mouth opening and closing as if the words had lodged in his throat. I shook off his hand and slammed the door behind me. Through the thin wood of the apartment door, I could still hear Gwen's fragile, trembling voice. "I told you she'd be upset if I came." Tyler didn't try to pacify her by blaming me, but he didn't follow me either. "It's not your fault," he sighed. "She's just throwing a tantrum because I can't take her on that trip. Give her a couple of days to cool off. She'll get over it." "But shouldn't you go after her? It's getting dark. Is it safe for her out there alone?" There was a brief pause. "Don't worry about her. She knows how to take care of herself. Just eat your food. You need to eat on time, or your stomach will start hurting again." The voices faded, but they continued to echo in my chest like a physical blow. During our first year of long-distance, a stranger had followed me to my apartment and tried to break in. Tyler had driven through the night to meet me at the police station. Holding me as I shook, he had sobbed and whispered, "I'm so sorry. I promise I'll never let you be alone again." He went back, handed in his resignation, and moved to my city. From that day on, he had never let me walk alone at night. I didn't even realize I was crying until my collar felt damp. My phone buzzed in my hand. A text from my mom: "Tomorrow is your six-year anniversary. What are you two planning? Have you made up your minds yet?" I wiped my tears and booked a one-way ticket home. "I'm coming home the day after tomorrow. Go ahead and set up those blind dates. I'm ready." It was ten at night when Tyler finally found me sitting on the swings in the neighborhood park. "You should know better than to stay out this late," he said, walking over. "I called her an Uber. Come on, let's go home." He reached out to take my hand, but I pulled away. He blinked, looking confused. "What? Are you still mad?" The anger had evaporated hours ago. All that was left was a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. I stared up at the crescent moon. "Tomorrow is our sixth anniversary. You remember that, right?" He nodded. "Of course I do." I looked at him, a faint, humorless smile touching my lips. "But you're taking Gwen to pick out her kitten tomorrow, aren't you? What if I ask you not to go?" His expression hardened. "Don't be childish, Cass. I gave her my word weeks ago, and tomorrow is the only day she has off." "But look, I've already planned it out. We'll do a big makeup celebration next month. I haven't forgotten about you." I didn't say another word. I pulled my hand from his grip, stood up, and walked toward our apartment building. "I'm not being childish. I won't ever be childish again." The next morning, I woke up gasping for air, a fierce, tickling itch burning my nose and throat. I opened my eyes to see a fluffy, long-haired kitten sitting right beside my pillow, licking my bare arm. Panicking, I threw my hand over my nose and bolted into the living room. "Tyler, the cat—my allergies—" Before I could finish, Gwen, who was kneeling on the floor assembling a cat condo, scrambled over and rubbed some catnip-infused spray onto my hands. "Isn't her coat gorgeous? Here, let her get used to your scent, and she'll love you in no time!" Instantly, a violent, stinging rash began to spread across my skin. I shoved her away, my voice raspy and choked. "Get away from me! Who told you that you could bring a cat in here? I'm severely allergic!" I rushed to the kitchen sink, turning the water on high to scrub my skin raw. Behind me, Tyler was already hovering over Gwen, inspecting a tiny red mark on her forearm with deep concern. He whirled around, his voice sharp with anger. "She didn't know you were allergic! Did you have to shove her like that? Look at her arm, it's completely red!" But his fury faltered when he saw my neck. The massive, angry red hives blooming across my skin made his jaw drop. "How is it this bad? I thought as long as you didn't play with it, you'd be fine..." My hands froze under the running water. I stared at him, unable to comprehend what I was hearing. A suffocating weight settled on my chest, cutting off my breath. "So you "knew". You knew I was allergic, and you brought it here anyway. You let it into my bedroom. You let it sleep right next to my head." When we first started dating, he had pet a stray cat and brought some stray hairs home on his shirt, which triggered a severe allergic reaction that put me in the urgent care clinic. From that day on, he stayed ten feet away from any cat he saw. If he accidentally came into contact with one, he would immediately shower, sanitize, and change his clothes before coming near me. Yet now, just to keep his high school sweetheart from feeling disappointed, he had brushed aside my health as if it were a minor inconvenience. Gwen's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry... I wanted to show her the kitten, so I opened the door. It's all my fault. Don't blame Tyler." Tyler let out a heavy sigh, gently rubbing her shoulder. "It's my fault for not making it clear. You have nothing to apologize for." He reached out to touch my face, but I slapped his hand away. Stumbling over to the bathroom, I pulled down the first-aid kit to find my rescue inhaler and EpiPen, or at least some strong antihistamines. But when I flipped the lid open, the compartments were entirely empty. I stared at the empty plastic box for what felt like an eternity. Then, a memory surfaced. A few weeks ago, Tyler mentioned that Gwen had suffered a terrible dust allergy at the office. He told me he’d given her my imported prescription antihistamines because they worked so well. "I'll replace them," he had promised when I got upset. I told him those pills were specialty imports that required a long waitlist. He had pinched my cheek then, swearing up and down that as long as he was around, he would never let anything trigger my allergies anyway. Gasping for air, my throat closing rapidly, I turned to look at him, my eyes burning. "Where is my medicine, Tyler?" Panic finally flickered in his eyes. "I... oh god. Cassidy, I'm sorry. I forgot to reorder them. I'll take you to the ER right now!" Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and angry. I summoned every ounce of my remaining strength to push him away. "Don't touch me! You make me sick." But as I tried to take a step, the world spun, and everything went black. The last thing I heard before slipping into the dark was Tyler screaming my name. When I woke up, the hospital room was completely silent and empty. A sharp pinch in the back of my hand drew my attention to my IV line—dark red blood was backing up into the plastic tube. I pressed the call button. The nurse hurried in, clicking her tongue as she adjusted the line. "Where did your boyfriend go? He swore he’d watch the drip and call me when it ran low. Why is he gone?" Just as she finished speaking, Tyler walked through the door, his hand resting gently on Gwen’s back as she sobbed. "Shh, stop crying. She's not going to blame you." He looked up and froze, seeing the nurse flushing my line and cleaning the dried blood off my skin. Before he could say a word, the nurse glared at him. "What is wrong with you? You specifically told me to let her rest because you'd keep an eye on her. How could you just wander off?" "She is incredibly weak right now. How can you be so careless with your girlfriend?" Tyler’s face flushed with embarrassment. He looked at me with deep guilt. "I'm so sorry, Cass. Gwen was hysterical, and I thought I'd only be gone for a second..." I took a slow, painful breath. "Save it. Do whatever you want." He frowned and knelt beside my bed, trying to capture my gaze. "Cassidy, please don't be like this. I know I messed up, and I swear I'll make it up to you. I promise this will never happen again." "Don't be mad at her. She didn't mean for any of this to happen. It was my fault for not warning her. She feels absolutely terrible." Even now, with my throat still raw and my skin covered in hives, his priority was clearing her name. He didn't see the dark bruise forming on the back of my hand, or the red welts still lingering on my neck, or my dry, cracked lips. All he saw was Gwen's tear-stained, pitiful face. A bitter lump swelled in my throat, but I forced it down. I managed a small, empty laugh. "You don't have to explain. I get it. It's my fault for being allergic to the things she likes." "If you're done here, you should go back to comforting her. I'm perfectly fine." Hearing this, Gwen looked as though she might collapse. Her tears fell thick and fast onto the linoleum floor. She bowed deeply to me, her voice trembling. "I am so, so sorry! This is all my fault. I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't be ruining your lives like this!" With a dramatic sob, she turned and ran out of the room. Tyler’s eyes flared—a volatile mix of heartbreak for her and anger at me. He bolted upright, staring down at me with profound disappointment, but he didn't say a word. Just as his foot crossed the threshold, I called out, my voice flat and cold. "Tyler. If you walk out that door, we're done." He froze, then slowly turned back, his expression twisted with sheer frustration. "Enough, Cassidy! I've had it with you picking on her. Now you're using our relationship to threaten me? I told you, she is just a friend. Stop letting your paranoia hurt innocent people!" A hot wave of tears threatened to spill over. "If she were the one lying in this hospital bed today, is that what you would say to her?" He locked eyes with me. For a moment, seeing the quiet, mocking smile on my face, he seemed to falter. After a long pause, his jaw tightened. "Hypothetical questions are pointless. Stop making a scene, Cass. Today is our anniversary. Let's not ruin it." And with that, he turned and ran after her. Tears finally escaped, hot and silent against my cheeks. I let out a dry laugh. I had known he wouldn't stay. But some stubborn, foolish part of me had desperately wanted to prove myself wrong. Six years. Reduced to a "pointless" question. How utterly pathetic. The moment they were out of sight, I pulled up my phone and changed my ticket to the earliest train home. I couldn't spend another second in this city. After checking myself out, I went back to the apartment to grab my bags. But as I walked out of the building lobby, I spotted them sitting side-by-side under the courtyard gazebo. Gwen's voice was soft, laced with a gentle concern. "Are you sure you should have left like that? What if she actually breaks up with you?" "Didn't you say her mom called the other day? That if you guys didn't get married today, her parents were going to force her to go back home for set-ups?" Tyler leaned back, staring up at the gray sky. "She won't leave. We've been together for six years; she doesn't have the heart to throw that away. The whole setup thing is just her parents trying to pressure us." "Then why aren't you marrying her?" Tyler reached over and patted her head, his tone light but laden with affection. "It's not that I don't want to. It just doesn't feel like the right time. Honestly, I won't feel right settling down until I know you've found someone stable to take care of you. I worry about you." "She already has it out for you. If we got married now, she'd make sure I never saw you again. That's why I always find some excuse to back out of our trips at the last minute." "Maybe next year. Hurry up and find a boyfriend so I can finally get married in peace." I stood frozen in the shadow of the doorway, the blood draining from my face. My knees trembled so violently I had to lean against the brick wall to keep from collapsing. Eleven times. A year and a half of canceled plans. I had spent eighteen months making excuses for him, convincing myself he was just stressed, too busy, or forgetful. But the truth was far simpler. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was deliberately putting our entire future on hold—watching my parents break my heart with pressure—just because he couldn't bear to leave his first love's side. I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted rust. "Enough." This pathetic, one-sided show had run its course. I dragged my suitcase past them, keeping my head down, and hailed a cab to the airport. Right before boarding, my screen lit up with a text from Tyler: "What do you want for dinner? I can pick something up." I didn't reply. Instead, I blocked his number and deleted him from every social media platform I owned. "Tyler, since you couldn't make a choice, I made it for you." "Now, there is no one left to stand between you and your precious first love."
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