I was on my way home from the grocery store when a flyer was shoved into my hand—a new Ramen and Noodle Bar, half-price for opening night. I snapped a picture and sent it to Dustin: Ramen tonight? I didn’t hear back for a long time. I just went to my evening shift as usual. It wasn't until I was clocking out that his text finally came through: Next time, babe. Paycheck hasn’t dropped this month. Give me a couple of days. I almost typed back that I’d just gotten paid and had a bonus this month, so I could cover it. But then I saw him. He was steering Piper Wells into a high-end jewelry boutique two blocks from my office. A wave of flatness washed over me. It felt pointless. I deleted my half-typed reply and went to the noodle bar alone. I was halfway through a massive bowl of spicy pork broth when my phone buzzed again. You mad? It's not that I didn't want to take you, Avery. I said next time. Oh, and heads up, I have to pull an all-nighter for the firm tonight, so I won't be home. We’ll celebrate your birthday properly another time. The soup tasted amazing. I was too busy enjoying it to reply. But he probably didn’t realize it yet: there wouldn’t be a "next time" for us. 1 Dustin finally returned the following night. He fumbled in the dark, hitting the corner of the coffee table with a thud and sending the glass kettle crashing to the floor with a loud shatter. "Damn it!" he muttered. I hadn't been fully asleep, but the chaos woke me up completely. I kept my eyes closed, unwilling to move. The bedroom door was practically kicked open. Dustin flipped the light on, the sudden glare like a physical blow. He sounded instantly irritable. "Avery, why didn't you leave a light on?" Oh. I’d forgotten. It was a habit of mine, a routine I’d maintained for three years, no matter how late he came home. I rubbed my eyes, shielding them from the harsh light. "My bad. I'll make sure to next time." Then I rolled over, ready to go back to sleep. Dustin’s voice tightened. "Hold up. Don't sleep. I just sliced my foot open on the glass. Where are the bandages?" I paused, counting to three. I just wanted the noise to stop. I got out of bed, found the first-aid kit, and handed it to him. He snatched it, still complaining. "Seriously, turning off every single light. Who does that? And now I have to replace that kettle." I didn’t respond. Dustin, with his almost unnaturally sharp senses, grabbed my hand. "You went for Ramen last night?" I mumbled an affirmative. "Where did you get the money?" he asked. He could easily figure it out—it was the end of the month, and our joint "living expenses" fund was nearly drained. "Oh, your paycheck came in, right?" he remembered, softening his tone immediately. "Fine, fine. Good, you ate. Now, can you go clean up the glass outside, and maybe whip me up a quick bowl of pasta? I barely got dinner." I managed to keep my expression blank. I was exhausted. "I’m too tired. We can deal with it tomorrow." His voice hardened instantly. "Absolutely not. The glass is a hazard. What if one of us gets up for the bathroom tonight?" I finally looked him in the eye, genuinely confused. "Do you not have hands?" Dustin froze. He clearly hadn't expected the attitude. After a long silence, he scoffed. "You can’t still be mad about the ramen thing, are you? I told you we’d go another time, and you already ate, didn't you? Besides, I'm starving. You ate a full meal; you can't seriously make me eat canned soup." My eyelids were heavy. I threw out the first thing that came to mind. "There's instant ramen in the pantry." "Wait, you're home, and you want me to eat instant ramen?" Dustin looked utterly shocked, his pupils huge. He was right. In the past, I would have had a home-cooked meal waiting, or at least a hot, hearty soup simmering. I would never have suggested instant ramen. But when he saw I still wasn't moving, he seemed to deflate. He tossed a small paper bag onto the bed. "Fine. I bought you something. Look." I didn’t react. He stepped closer, pulling the item out of the bag, his voice turning soft and cajoling. "Stop being difficult, Avery. I’ve been saving every penny this month to get you something. You're going to love it." I reluctantly looked at the item he was holding up: a piece of flimsy, black lace lingerie. His tone grew suggestive. "After I eat, you can try it on..." Suddenly, my stomach clenched, and I felt a brief wave of nausea. Dustin slapped his forehead, a look of mock-annoyance spreading across his face. "Oh, damn, I forgot! You're on your period, aren’t you? That’s my bad. Okay. Just clean up the glass and get some rest. Early night." I couldn't stand to look at him anymore. I walked into the bedroom and locked the door behind me. My mother, Carol, had texted me. Are you absolutely sure about this? I checked the time. 10:30 PM. Not too late. I replied: Yes. I've thought it through. I'm going to London. My family was relatively well-off. After college, my mother had repeatedly suggested I go abroad for my Master’s—she said education was priceless, and improving my credentials was always a safe bet. But back then, I'd just started dating Dustin. Head over heels in love, I’d turned down my mother’s offer. I’d almost caused a family feud over it. I never even dared to mention it to Dustin, terrified of burdening him psychologically. I should have listened to them earlier. Maybe then I wouldn't have wasted so much of myself on this relationship. My mother called instantly, skeptical. "Seriously? You're giving up that boy?" "I'm breaking up with him." I hung up and closed my eyes. I was so bone-tired. My mother sent one last text, urging me not to change my mind—she was likely remembering six months ago, when I’d threatened to leave, only to come crawling back after one small, sweet gesture from Dustin. This time, my mind was set. I slept straight through until morning. I did my makeup and got dressed early—I was going to the embassy to process my student visa today. Dustin emerged from the guest room, sneezing twice. "Why did you lock the door last night? I had to sleep in the guest room. There were no blankets, and now I have a cold." I ignored him, changed in the bathroom, and headed for the door. He stood blocking the exit, rubbing a wad of tissue under his nose. He frowned slightly. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Did you hear me?" "I heard you," I said flatly. He sounded annoyed. "Then say something. I thought you were deaf." He tossed the tissue in the trash. "Listen, can you Venmo me three hundred bucks? This cold is pretty bad, I need to go to a clinic." I sighed, meeting his eyes. "Don't you have the card?" Early in the relationship, he had suggested we open a joint savings account for our future. Six months ago, he said his "little sister," Piper Wells, needed emergency cash for her grandmother’s funeral, and he’d kept the card ever since. Dustin’s face soured. "That’s for our house fund, we can’t touch that for little things. And you just got paid, you were going to deposit it anyway. Why are you suddenly nitpicking over three hundred dollars?" I gave him a cold stare. "Give me the card, and I’ll transfer it." He immediately grew agitated. "No way. You're impulsive with money. Just go! You’ll be late for work if you keep dragging this out." Oh, so he still knew I had a job. Unlike every other time, I didn't reach for my phone to send the money. I simply said, "I don't have it. Figure it out." Then, ignoring his darkening expression, I pushed past him and walked out the door. He chased after me, rambling defensively. "Are you serious? Over one dinner? Are you still mad about the ramen?" I was waiting for the elevator. I kept my voice patient. "I'm not mad. And I don't care about the ramen." "So, it’s because I didn't go with you?" He sounded so sure of himself. He tried to step closer to hug me. "Come on, Avery. I'm just busy. Next time, I promise, okay?" I side-stepped his embrace. The elevator doors opened, and I walked straight in. "Don’t bother." I looked at his hands, suspended awkwardly in the air, and hit the 'Close' button. The line at the embassy wasn't long, and my materials were accepted without issue. Next, I had to go to my company to submit my resignation. As I walked in, I heard the front desk girls gossiping. "Piper, is that the new Love Pendant from Cartier? It’s stunning..." Piper Wells hadn’t noticed me yet. She smiled coyly. "It is. My brother bought it for me. He’s so thoughtful." "Wow. Jewelry prices are insane right now. He must really spoil you..." He certainly did. Dustin had always spoiled her. I’d tried to complain, but he told me Piper was practically family—the sister of his childhood friend—and it was his duty to look out for her. He’d even pulled strings to get her a job at my company, using my contacts, despite her weak resume. I was about to slip past, but the receptionist spotted me. "Oh, hey, Avery! You have a delivery." I walked over and took the package, my eyes unconsciously lingering on Piper's neck. It was beautiful, sparkling gold. "Hi, Avery," Piper said, offering a token greeting. She looked slightly flustered. "I, uh, I’m going to go make coffee..." As she passed, I caught the scent of her perfume—the latest floral-fruity scent that was everywhere. A familiar pang of hurt hit me. The package was the new shower gel I'd ordered. Dustin had always told me he hated perfume, which was why I put so much effort into finding subtle, clean-scented body washes. Now I knew. He didn't hate the scent of perfume; he just hated the idea of me wearing it. I collected myself and went into the boss’s office. My manager was disappointed to lose me but excited about my Master’s program abroad. He even offered me a job when I returned. After handing over my work, I finally got home, exhausted. I was surprised to find Dustin waiting with a huge, welcoming smile. He beamed as he came over. "Avery! Rough day at work? I have great news! My paycheck finally came in!" As he spoke, he neatly lined up the shoes I’d kicked off. When I didn't respond, he stood squarely in front of me. "Avery, no more pouting. I promised to make it up to you, and I’m doing it now. But since you just ate ramen the other day..." He waved his arm dramatically toward the kitchen table. "Ta-da! What do you think?" The table was covered with a lavish spread of expensive seafood. My head began to ache. I sighed. "Dustin, I think I told you a long time ago. I’m allergic to shellfish." He froze, his smile dissolving instantly. "Oh." He looked utterly lost. "What do we do? I was so worried about quality that I went to the high-end market and bought the freshest ingredients..." "You eat it," I said, turning to walk away. He grabbed my arm. "No, wait. I did this for you. If you don't eat it, I wasted all that money." He grabbed a slip of paper from the table and held it out. "Look, the prices have spiked recently. This was expensive." I glanced at the slip. It wasn't a receipt from a fish market. It was a check for a reservation at a high-end steakhouse. The date was yesterday. The location was near the jewelry district. I stared at Dustin. He followed my gaze. When he realized what he was holding, his face went white with panic. "Ah! Wrong one. That’s—that’s a reimbursement check for a client dinner. My coworker gave it to me. Why did I bring it home?" He was a financial officer; he'd pulled this kind of excuse countless times. I was too tired to call him out. I only felt a deep, weary sense of defeat. "Dustin, we’re breaking up." The moment the words left my mouth, his phone rang. The caller ID was Piper. I don't know if Dustin even registered what I said. He shot me one look, then answered the phone. "Oh, okay, okay, I’ll be right there. Don't panic." He hung up and started to explain. "Piper's having an emergency. I have to go. She’s alone in the city, Avery. Don't let your mind run wild, okay?" I noticed that my heart was utterly still. I felt nothing at all. As he rushed out, he added, "Just eat the seafood, okay? Don't let it go to waste." I sighed and didn't touch the mess. I took a shower and started to pack. That's when I hit an awkward snag. Our large suitcase had been broken six months ago—in a fight I’d initiated, ironically. I decided to buy a new one online. I found a great deal with a group discount and shared the link on social media, asking if anyone wanted to split the order. Two minutes later, Dustin commented: Why are you buying a suitcase? Then he sent me a direct message: Five hundred bucks for one suitcase? Can’t you find something more reasonable? I ignored the messages. I thought back to when we first started dating. His salary was minimal, but he would spend half of it buying me those fancy sneakers I liked. He would call me from a busy office, just to tell me a quick, ridiculous story before wishing me goodnight. There were so many moments like that. I genuinely was moved back then. But since the affection was gone, there was no point in torturing ourselves. Another voice message came through: Fine. If you really want it, just buy it. The old one is trash anyway. Attached was a $500 Venmo transfer. I was baffled. Wasn't he supposed to be with Piper? Why was he obsessing over my social media? Annoyed, I blocked his number. Around 2:00 AM, the bedroom light flickered on with a sudden click. "Avery! What the hell is your problem? You wanted ramen, I got you ramen. You wanted a suitcase, I bought you a suitcase. Why did you block me?" The migraine was back. I forced myself to sit up and faced him, my eyes burning. He sighed, his tone softening a fraction. "Is this still about Piper? I told you, she’s like a little sister. I’m her support system. It's totally innocent. We’re practically family, right?" I pressed my lips together. "Right." He seemed relieved. "Okay. If it makes you that unhappy, I’ll stop helping her out, okay?" He then lifted the comforter and got into bed. I nearly jumped out of my skin, grabbing my side of the blanket and retreating to the guest room. I heard him curse under his breath and then a loud slam—something had been thrown against the wall. Where did he get all this misplaced anger? Maybe it was only ever reserved for me. The next morning, there was a sticky note on the frame of the guest room door. I’ve done and said everything I can. You need to think about this. I crumpled the note. I noticed the whole apartment was clean—the kitchen floor swept, the mess from the night before gone. There was a plate of toast and eggs waiting on the counter. Did he stay up all night cleaning? I shook my head. It wasn't my problem anymore. For the next few days, Dustin didn't come home, and I welcomed the peace. I finished preparing my papers and materials for London. A text from my mother popped up. When is your flight? I'll have your brother pick you up. I was startled. Rhys was back in the States? I immediately tensed up. My brother was ruthless and notoriously humorless. Sure enough, when I met him, his brow was deeply furrowed, and his expression was severe. "What are you wearing?" He tugged disparagingly at my wrinkled collar. I offered a weak, "Hi, Rhys." He grunted, motioned for me to get into the car, and climbed into the back seat, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. I always thought he was overly dramatic, but I never dared to say so. His international business was booming, spanning multiple sectors. He had the capital to be arrogant. Once the car started, he spoke to the driver. "Take us to the nearest high-end mall. We need to replace this entire wardrobe." The car pulled away. Watching the familiar street signs pass by, I realized this three-year-long road was finally coming to an end. Inside the boutique, Rhys had little patience. "Why are you comparing everything? If you like it, buy it." He was right. They were just clothes. It wasn't like I couldn’t afford them. I quickly picked out three outfits I liked, instead of my usual agonizing over every dollar. When I reached for my wallet, Rhys swiftly slapped his own card down. "And your face. And this rat's nest you call hair." "What kind of pathetic life have you been living? Don't tell anyone we’re related when you walk out of here..." Rhys griped the whole time. He wasn't entirely wrong; I’d been meticulous about my appearance in college, but my self-care had deteriorated over the last two years. If I showed up looking like this, Mom would be devastated. Rhys finally stopped when he’d overhauled my look from head to toe. He gently ruffled my newly styled hair. "Now you look like yourself again." I laughed, feeling genuinely lighter. I turned around—and saw Dustin and Piper. Piper was wearing a delicate, custom-made initial pin in her hair. I recognized it instantly. Dustin and I had made it together at a tiny workshop early in our relationship. It was a sentimental piece I’d cherished and kept at the very bottom of my jewelry box, never wearing it for fear of damaging it. And now Dustin had given it to her. Piper smiled and waved at me. "Avery! What a coincidence! Shopping today?" Her eyes darted over to Rhys, who was standing beside me. She quickly added, trying to sound casual, "Don't get the wrong idea. My plumbing broke, so I called Dustin to fix it. It took until noon, so we just stopped to grab some groceries for lunch." Buying groceries, and a brand-new Chanel handbag, apparently. In the past, I would have erupted. But now, I didn't care at all. Dustin's eyes were locked onto Rhys like magnets. After a long silence, his eyes narrowed, and he spoke, his voice raw. "Avery. Who is he?"
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