Chapter 2
491words
When I finally made the decision, my friends thought I’d lost my mind.
“You’re breaking up with Liam Evans? What kind of guy areyou looking for then?!”
I understood their confusion.
Liam was, on paper, the perfect boyfriend.
Handsome, wealthy family, brilliant.
He’d sailed through med school and residency, landed a job at one of the best hospitals on the West Coast, became the youngest attending in his department. His future was blindingly bright.
He was generous. Gifts for anniversaries and holidays were luxuries I could never afford to reciprocate. When I complained about my commute after graduation, he bought me a car.
Even my parents said I’d hit the jackpot.
But… I always felt he didn’t love me. He loved the ideaof having a girlfriend. He was fulfilling a role. Whoever held the title would have received the same treatment.
I felt invisible.
He didn’t care about my feelings, my highs or lows. He actively discouraged me from relying on him. His constant refrain was that I needed to be more independent.
Over the years, buried in studies and work, we barely dated. I ate alone, watched movies alone, celebrated birthdays alone, kept the home fires burning alone, waiting for him to come back.
He didn’t love me.
I had a boyfriend, yet felt lonelier than when I was single.
I couldn’t live like that anymore.
Breaking up was easier than I expected. When I called Liam to say we needed to talk, he just grunted an “Okay” before hanging up.
I didn’t expect him to show up at my door three months later, drunk.
Loving him was a habit. We ended up tangled together, confused, and just as confusedly, got back together.
But after that, I kept remembering his words. I tried hard to be independent.
Now, he was asking why I didn’tcall?
…
Liam clearly remembered that fight too. He opened his mouth…
“That time, I—”
I looked down. “I’m tired, Liam. Let’s just sleep.”
Before, I would have argued. I might have yelled. I’d have spent the night crying.
Now? I just felt empty.
Exhausted. I couldn’t be bothered.
Liam’s light brown eyes, behind his frameless glasses, flickered. He pressed a hand to his stomach.
“My stomach’s killing me. Can you make me some soup?”
I used to make him soup whenever he drank. Something warm always helped settle his stomach.
But now, that instinctive concern was gone, replaced only by the irritation of being woken up.
I pulled the covers up, turning my back to him.
“There’s instant ramen in the pantry. Make it yourself.
“Close the door on your way out. I have work tomorrow.”
Silence hung heavy behind me.
After a long moment, the bed shifted as Liam stood up.
His footsteps, heavier than usual, faded down the hall. The door clicked softly shut.
Darkness reclaimed the room.
I closed my eyes.
