My crawfish boil arrived. My boyfriend, Liam, went downstairs to get it but came back empty-handed. He said the delivery guy slipped, and the bag was a total loss. Funny, because his little protégé just updated her Instagram story. A picture of my exact order. “Was craving crawfish so bad, and then my knight in shining armor appeared! Thanks for the hookup, Dr. Hayes!” I let out a cold laugh, picked up my phone, and dialed 9-1-1. “Hello, 9-1-1? I’d like to report a theft. I believe my food delivery was stolen…” 01 I didn’t even finish the sentence before Liam snatched the phone from my hand, his face red with anger, and hung up. “Ava, what the hell? It’s a minor thing. You’re calling the cops? You’re wasting public resources, wasting their time.” “I told you it spilled,” he said, his voice rising. “Do you not understand English? Or do you just not trust me?” He was furious, immediately on the offensive. I grabbed my phone back and, staring him dead in the eye, opened Chloe’s Instagram. I held the screen up to his face. His jaw tightened. “Fine! I gave the crawfish to Chloe. I ran into her by the elevator when she was taking out her trash. She said she was hungry, so I gave it to her. She’s just an intern, a young woman in a new city. Are you really going to pick a fight over this?” Caught in a lie, he didn't even flinch. He just doubled down. I had to wonder if I’d been letting him get away with too much lately, because his sense of entitlement was staggering. Chloe was the daughter of Liam’s mentor from his residency. Three months ago, she’d started as an intern in his department. Under the guise of “repaying a favor” to his mentor, Liam had been bending over backward. He never takes interns, but he made an exception for her. Then, without telling me, he rented an apartment for her in our building, just two floors down. He gives her a ride to and from the hospital every single day. His excuse was that it wasn't safe for a young woman to live alone, and this way, he could “keep an eye on her.” Day in and day out, it was always, “Ava, you have to understand,” or “Ava, just be patient.” Today, I was done being patient. “What, is she destitute? Is she starving?” I snapped. “If she wants food, she can order it herself. Since when do you hijack my dinner? What is this, poker? You just intercept the deal?” My voice was rising, matching his. “How can you talk like that? It’s one order of crawfish. Why are you blowing this out of proportion? You’re always making a scene!” “Are you going downstairs to get my food back from her right now, or am I letting the police handle it?” I held up my phone, my expression flat. I gave him two options. 02 “Ava! I’m warning you…” He was losing face, and he was livid. He looked at me like he could wring my neck. The second my thumb hovered over the ‘9’ on my keypad again, he cursed, turned on his heel, and slammed the door behind him. Ten minutes later, Liam returned, stone-faced, holding the bag of crawfish. I was already at the table, slurping a cup of instant ramen. I didn't even look up. I just took the bag from his hand and dropped it directly into the kitchen trash can. Liam stood there, arms crossed, simmering with residual anger. He was doing that thing he always does—waiting for me to back down, to be the one to apologize. When I didn't, he finally broke the silence. “You’re unbelievable. You force me to go get it, and now you throw it in the trash. What do you actually want, Ava?” I ignored him. I finished the last of the noodles, then slowly stood up. Liam and I grew up together. We were inseparable. To everyone else, we were the perfect couple. The same social circle, the good families, the childhood sweethearts. All those labels were plastered onto us before we even knew what they meant. We made it official in college, and our families exchanged heirlooms as a promise of engagement. Barring a catastrophe, we were going to get married. Our relationship was so stable, so certain, that I never imagined anything could actually break it. Chloe’s arrival made me realize, with painful clarity, that this was the end of the line. Since she’d moved in, her “emergencies” had become constant. One day, it was a cockroach in her apartment, and she was “too terrified to sleep.” The next, her water heater was broken, and she was "so helpless she could just cry." Then, it was raining too hard for her to get a cab home—the list was endless. And Liam, without complaint, was there. Every. Single. Time. Sometimes I wasn't even sure who his girlfriend was anymore—me or her. I’ve been buried in a major project, too busy to deal with this mess. But tonight, the crawfish was the last straw. “Liam, we’re breaking up,” I said. I looked him straight in the eye, my voice perfectly steady. 03 Liam blinked, stunned. He genuinely thought he’d misheard me. “Ava, what did you just say?” “I said, we’re done.” “You’re insane! You’re breaking up with me over crawfish?” “Yes.” “You’re angry right now. I’m not going to hold you to this. Calm down. I’ll pretend I didn't hear that.” That was the end of the conversation. He went straight into his study and didn't come out for the rest of the night. The next morning when I got up, Liam was already eating. He was acting like nothing had happened. He’d even made breakfast. There was warm milk, toast, and two perfectly fried, sunny-side-up eggs on a plate. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft as he pulled me into a chair. “I wasn't thinking last night. I shouldn't have given Chloe your food without asking.” “I’ll buy you a whole new order tonight. Don’t be mad anymore, okay? I promise it won't happen again.” He fundamentally did not get it. He thought I was throwing a tantrum over a missed meal. What I hated was the total lack of boundaries. What I hated was him repeatedly disrespecting me. I didn't answer him, but I sat down. The milk was warm, the toast was crispy. I wasn’t going to punish my own stomach. Seeing me eat, Liam visibly relaxed. “Ava,” he said, his tone casual, “starting tomorrow, when you make breakfast, can you just make an extra portion? I’ll take it to Chloe when I pick her up.” “The hospital cafeteria food is the same old stuff. She’s a little picky and can't get used to it. I’ll send you her menu requests later.” He said it so easily, as if it wasn't the most absurd thing in the world. 04 I almost laughed. He wasn't just “repaying a favor”—he was trying to outsource it to me. My appetite vanished. “What am I? Her mother? Her personal chef? Am I supposed to be her free nanny, too?” Liam’s brow furrowed instantly, his eyes flashing with that familiar impatience. “Why do you have to be so harsh? It’s just an extra plate of food. How much more work is that for you? She’s a young woman, she was sheltered her whole life…” I dropped my fork and pushed my chair back. “Liam, get this through your head: we are broken up. If you want to get up early and cook for your precious protégé, that is your business.” My words lit his fuse again. He cut me off. “Are you still on this? I apologized! I made you breakfast! You just can't let it go, can you?” I glanced at the insulated lunch bag already packed and sitting on the counter. I scoffed. “You’re right. I can’t.” Made me breakfast. Right. More like I got Chloe’s leftovers. “Ava, the first time you said 'break up,' I thought it was just drama. But bringing it up again is pathetic. Stop with the jealous girlfriend act. It’s not a good look.” “I’m going to work. You need to stay here and reflect on your attitude.” He stood up, grabbed his keys, and stormed toward the door. He paused, walked back, and snatched the insulated bag from the counter. Everyone who knows us knows I’ve been crazy about Liam my whole life. I followed him everywhere. I chose the same college just to be near him. So, in his mind, it was impossible for me to actually leave him. He was convinced I was just being petty over a $50 crawfish order. Ten minutes later, a new notification from Chloe. “Private chauffeur and a custom breakfast. Thank you, Dr. Hayes! ?” It was immediately followed by a direct message to me, complete with little winking emojis. “Ava, Liam just told me that if I want anything to eat, I should just tell you! Thank you so much! For tonight, I’m thinking bouillabaisse. I heard the saffron from that little import shop downtown is the best, and you have to get the seafood fresh from the market on the south side.” 05 I suspect Liam and Chloe are both idiots. One of them can’t comprehend the words “we are broken up” and has decided I’m the new private chef for his intern. The other is shamelessly flaunting it in my face and demanding I drive 20 miles round-trip for her custom-ordered dinner. They really think I'm their goddamn servant. “How about you wait?” I typed back. “On your deathbed, I’ll bring you a whole damn buffet. I'll even cater the funeral.” I wasn't holding back anymore. Three months. When Chloe first arrived, Liam was on call, so I was the one who picked her up from the airport. I bustled around, found her a hotel, and arranged a nice dinner to welcome her. That night, she called Liam—who had just gotten home—and said she "felt sick." He came home the next morning and yelled at me. “If you didn't want to pick her up, you should have just said so! You ignored her the whole ride and then took her to eat 'weird food.' Really, Ava?” “She spent her first night here in the ER! How am I supposed to explain this to my mentor?” I was floored. I’d been perfectly polite. I tried to make small talk in the car; she was the one glued to her phone. I thought she was just tired. I asked her where she wanted to eat. She chose the restaurant. She ordered the food. I was furious and demanded to confront her. Liam, sensing a real fight, immediately backed down. He grabbed my hands. “I’m sorry, Ava, I’m sorry. She’s just a kid, she’s been spoiled. She doesn't know any better. Don't stoop to her level.” I was just... tired. He seemed to forget that I used to be my parents’ "spoiled kid," too. I gave him the silent treatment for days. He must have felt guilty because he was on his best behavior. He apologized, bought me gifts, and swore it would never happen again. I forgave him. 06 My message must have hit its mark. Seconds later, my phone rang. It was Liam. I could hear faint sobbing in the background. “Ava, have I spoiled you too much? Is that it? You’re just cruel and toxic. And you call yourself an educated woman? That’s pathetic.” “My protégé is your protégé. I thought we were a team. Stop acting like a child! Go buy the groceries, and tonight, you will apologize to Chloe. Do it for me. Can you just do this one thing for me?” His voice softened at the end, trying to coax me. A wave of absurdity washed over me. Since Chloe arrived, Liam—normally so calm and brilliant—had lost his mind. He couldn't see straight. No sane person would ever ask their girlfriend to cater to another woman. He wants to worship his “protégé,” fine. He wants to repay his mentor, fine. But dragging me into it, humiliating me? That’s where he crossed the line. “Liam, are you even human? You know what, don’t answer. Just go bark up a tree. At least a dog has an excuse for not understanding basic human decency.” I heard a sharp intake of breath on his end, cut short by a strangled sob from Chloe. I know how to land a punch. I hung up before he could respond and immediately started packing. I’d been staying in his apartment for the last six months because it was closer to the institute while I was on a critical project. Thirty minutes later, I was packed. My phone had blown up with texts from Liam. Just a stream of insults—calling me crass, toxic, ungrateful. But the last one caught my eye. “You think you’re still Ava Calloway, the family princess? With that attitude? Who the hell besides me would ever put up with you?” 07 He wasn't wrong about that first part. I wasn't that princess anymore. Three years ago, my parents’ business collapsed. Bankruptcy, liquidation. After the assets were seized to pay the debts, they moved overseas to try and rebuild. That’s when the Hayes family’s attitude... shifted. Liam became a star attending surgeon, while I stayed at the research institute, working on projects with my mentor. My income was stable, but it was nothing compared to the new standards Liam's mother had for a daughter-in-law. She used to pull me aside, calling me her "daughter." Now, she just made passive-aggressive comments, implying the "bankrupt daughter" was no longer good enough for her "brilliant son." Back then, Liam didn’t disappoint me. He stood up to her. He chose me. He told me, more than once, “Ava, don't be afraid. Don't listen to my mother. I’ve got you. I am going to marry you.” At the time, I thought he was my rock in the storm. I couldn't tell if I loved him or was just grateful. But looking back, our relationship was already fractured. I just refused to see it. His “loyalty” wasn't love. It was a form of charity. I was no longer his equal. I was the "poor girl" who needed him. His "devotion" was just his superiority complex, his pity, wrapped up in a pretty bow. He'd gotten used to me being agreeable. The moment I pushed back, he couldn't handle it. And I’d been trapped for way too long by the label of "perfect couple."
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