He Chose Her Every Time, So I Left

Coming home from a late shift on a winter night, my fingers were stiff with cold. The first thing I did was head for the bathroom. Ethan stopped me, a bowl of late-night leftovers in his hand. “What took you so long? Rena’s in the bath. Just wait a bit.” I glanced at the clock. It was already eleven thirty. “I have to be up at six. Could you ask her to finish earlier next time?” He frowned. “It’s just a bath. Do you really have to make an issue of it?” When we’d been apartment hunting, I suggested getting a place with two bathrooms. Ethan insisted on this one because it was close to his and Serena’s office. Their commute was ten minutes. Mine meant three transfers and nearly four hours round trip. Back then he’d said, “I’ll drive you to and from work. You won’t have to cram onto the subway.” Six months later, not once. The bathroom door opened and Serena walked out in my bathrobe. “Sorry, Quinn, I didn’t know you’d still need to shower this late. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have soaked so long.” Ethan immediately grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her, then bent down to towel off her wet hair. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t owe her an apology. She’s just tired from work. On edge.” A sudden wave of weariness washed over me. I set down the towel I’d been drying my hands with and slipped off my engagement ring. “Right. On edge.” “So this place is all yours.” 1 The ring landed on the dining table with a small, sharp clink. Ethan stared at it as if he hadn’t understood what I’d said. “You’re moving out?” “Yes.” “Over Serena using the bathroom?” He stood there frowning, still clutching the towel he’d been using to dry her hair. Serena stood behind him in my bathrobe, water dripping from her hair, a wet puddle spreading at her feet. “Quinn, stop this. It’s almost midnight. Where would you even go?” I didn’t answer. I pulled out the suitcase I’d packed days ago. The wheels rattled across the floor, and Ethan’s expression finally changed. “When did you pack this?” “Last week.” Last week, Serena said her back was hurting and took over our bedroom. Ethan told me to sleep on the couch, saying her parents weren’t in the city and we should look after her. The couch was a foot too short. I curled up on it all night. The next morning, my neck was so stiff I couldn’t turn my head. That same day, I called a landlord near my office and put down a deposit. It wasn’t impulsive. I’d just never said anything. The apartment wasn’t much. One bedroom, a small living room, old furniture. But it was ten minutes from work. The landlord said the heating was reliable. It wouldn’t be cold in winter. Ethan blocked the door, his tone softening. “Just sleep here tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow. Let me make you some noodles.” In the past, whenever he softened even a little, I’d find every excuse on his behalf. He didn’t pick me up because work was busy. He gave Serena the car because she needed it more. He gave up the bedroom because she’d just been through a breakup and was in a bad place. But excuses pile up, and eventually their weight makes it hard to breathe. In the end, that weight makes even saying “I’m hurting” feel like making a scene. “I’m not hungry.” I pulled away from his hand. Serena tugged gently at his arm. “Eth, Quinn doesn’t like me, does she? Maybe I should move out tomorrow.” She said she’d leave, but her eyes were on Ethan. Ethan turned to her, right on cue. “You just got kicked out by your landlord. Your job’s not stable. Where would you go?” Then he turned on me. “She’s only staying for a while. Why do you have to push her out right now?” “She’s been here five months.” “She’ll leave when she finds the right place.” “No need. I already found mine.” The room went quiet. Serena pressed her lips together and said softly, “Is there some kind of misunderstanding, Quinn? There’s really nothing between Eth and me.” I looked at the bathrobe she was wearing. “Whatever there is or isn’t between you two, you don’t owe me an explanation.” Her face went white. She edged closer to Ethan. Ethan’s frown deepened. “Quinn, what’s the point of all this?” “There is no point.” I pulled the door open. Cold wind swept into the entryway. Ethan grabbed the suitcase handle. “Don’t use a breakup to threaten me.” “It’s not a threat. I’m just telling you.” His face darkened. “Fine. Go. But when you can’t handle it out there, don’t expect me to take you back.” I nodded. “Don’t worry.” The suitcase was heavy. Carrying it down the stairs, my hand went numb from the handle cutting into my palm. Ethan didn’t come after me. The taxi pulled out of the complex, and I looked back one last time. The tenth floor was still lit. The curtains, the dining table, the dishes. I’d chosen every one of them. I’d spent years trying to turn that place into a home. In the end, I left with one suitcase. My phone lit up. Ethan had texted: “Let me know when you get there.” A few seconds later, a second message appeared. “Rena has a fever. Where did you put the fever medicine?” The faint stirring in my chest faded to nothing. I turned off the screen. At one in the morning, I moved into an old apartment complex ten minutes from work. One bedroom, a small living room. Not much, but the heating was strong. I showered and lay down. The six o’clock alarm hadn’t gone off yet when I woke on my own. A pale glow was just seeping through the window. For the first time, I didn’t have to rush out before dawn to catch the subway. And for the first time, I realized that leaving Ethan wouldn’t make my world collapse. My life had simply taken too long to belong to me again. 2 Ethan was sure I wouldn’t last three days. On the fourth night, he showed up outside the children’s therapy center with a thermos. “Here to pick you up.” He said it casually, as though six months of broken promises had never happened. I glanced behind him. “Where’s the car?” He hesitated. “Rena had a client meeting. She took it.” I opened the thermos. The noodle soup was slicked with chili oil. I couldn’t eat spicy food. Ethan knew that. Serena, on the other hand, loved it. “She made this?” “She insisted on helping. I’d set yours aside separately, but I grabbed the wrong one on my way out.” “Then take it back.” Ethan’s face fell. “Quinn, I came all the way here for you. What more do you want?” “You gave her the car, brought me soup made the way she likes it, then rode the subway for over an hour to come get me.” I pushed the thermos back into his hands. “Are you trying to make me feel grateful, or just trying to make yourself feel better?” He had nothing to say to that. The glass door of the therapy center swung open and Ryan walked out, holding a scarf out to me. “You left this in the locker room. Temperature’s dropping. Don’t forget it.” Ethan’s eyes locked on him. “Who is he?” “A coworker.” “How come you’ve never mentioned him?” I almost laughed. “How many of my coworkers do you know?” Three years of dating, one year engaged, and he’d only been to my office twice. Once to pick up Serena after she’d had too much to drink, since he was passing by. The other time, to borrow my charger. Ryan jingled his car keys. “Last train’s about to stop running. Want a ride?” Ethan cut in immediately. “No need. I’ll take her.” “Didn’t your car get taken?” Ethan’s face darkened even more. I didn’t want to make a scene in front of a coworker, so I turned down Ryan’s offer and walked with Ethan toward the subway station. On the way there, he tried to speak several times but held back each time. At the transfer, Ethan suddenly said, “Don’t forget, we’re going to try on wedding dresses tomorrow afternoon.” “Let’s cancel the wedding.” “You’re still mad about Rena?” “Not postpone. Cancel.” He stared at me. “I haven’t agreed to that.” “Canceling a wedding doesn’t require both people to agree.” The next afternoon, I went to the bridal shop after all, but only to process the refund. Ethan was forty minutes late. I called him three times. Serena answered the last one. “Quinn, Eth can’t come to the phone right now.” In the background, I heard Ethan’s voice. “If it hurts, don’t move. I’ll take you to get an X-ray.” Serena drew a sharp breath. “I twisted my ankle moving a flower pot. He insists on checking if it’s fractured. You’re not upset, are you, Quinn?” I hung up and slid the refund form across the counter to the clerk. I’d just finished signing when Ethan called. “Rena got hurt. I’ll be there later.” “No need to try on dresses. I’ve already canceled everything.” “Quinn, can’t you be understanding just this once?” I looked at my reflection in the mirror. “You take her to the doctor while I move out alone. You give her the car while I ride the subway. You remember that she’s afraid of pain, afraid of the dark, that she can’t get caught in the rain.” I lowered my head and signed the refund form. “Ethan, I’ve been understanding too many times. I’m just tired.” “We’ll talk when I get back.” “No need.” “Do you really have to be this cold?” I gathered my things, my voice quiet. “You know exactly who’s been cold.” Silence on the other end. Then, coldly, “Don’t come crying to me later.” I ended the call and set my phone to silent. I signed the last form. White wedding dresses lined the corridor. I used to imagine what Ethan’s face would look like when he saw me in one. Now, all I wanted was my deposit back. 3 Two weeks after canceling the wedding dress, I turned twenty-nine. Ethan had asked me ahead of time, “What do you want to eat for your birthday?” It was rare for him to take the initiative. I thought about it for a long time and decided to use my birthday to put a final period on this relationship. To end things with him for good. I told him I wanted to go to that noodle shop near the university. On our first date, I’d knocked over a bottle of vinegar there. He’d knelt down to wipe off my shoes while Marie, the owner, looked on. Smiling beside us, she’d said, “Your boyfriend’s a sweetheart, honey. You two are perfect together.” Ethan’s ears had stayed red for a long time after that. It was one of the few moments that convinced me I’d once been loved. On the evening of my birthday, I arrived at the noodle shop at six thirty and sat by the window. The same table was still there, though the paint had faded and a thin crack now ran along one corner. I waited until eight. Marie refilled my water three times. “Boyfriend not here yet?” “Traffic.” The excuse came out so smoothly that even I was tired of hearing it. At nine ten, Ethan texted. “Something came up. I’ll be late.” I asked how long. He didn’t reply. At ten, the noodle shop closed. Marie brought me a bowl of noodles on the house, a candle pushed into the middle. Halfway through, Serena posted on Facebook. In the photo, she was holding a cake. Ethan stood behind her, lighting the candles. “At my lowest, at least someone remembered to cheer me up.” A long time later, Ethan finally called. “Are you still at the restaurant?” “About to leave.” “Rena got fired. She’s in a really bad place. I was worried she might do something stupid if she was alone. Your birthday comes every year. Her situation today was different.” I watched the snow falling outside. “Ethan, I turned twenty-nine today.” “I know.” “No. You don’t.” Twenty-nine doesn’t come around twice. And this noodle shop, slated for demolition at the end of the month, would never open again. I should never have agreed to this. Should never have let myself hope, not even a little. He was never going to choose me over Serena. Back at my apartment, I ran into Ryan in the hallway. He’d just gotten off the night shift. He noticed the paper bowl in my hands, took an orange from his bag, and dropped it in. “Didn’t have a gift ready. Here’s something round instead. Happy birthday.” He didn’t ask why I was alone. He just turned on the hallway light for me and stepped back. “Get some rest.” At eleven thirty, Ethan showed up. He brought a cake and a bouquet. The card in the bouquet had Serena’s name on it. When he noticed, he crumpled it up. “The shop mixed them up.” I looked at the chopped hazelnuts on the cake. “I’m allergic to hazelnuts.” Ethan froze. “Since when?” “Since I was eighteen.” We’d known each other eleven years, and he had no idea. “I’ll get a new one.” “Don’t bother.” He finally lost patience. “I dropped everything and rushed over here. Rena’s a mess and I didn’t even stay with her. Do you really have to ruin this?” “What time did she cut the cake?” “A little after eight.” “You texted me at nine ten saying something came up.” I looked at him. “So spending my birthday with me was the kind of work you could push aside. Comforting her was the thing that couldn’t wait.” His phone rang. The first time, he silenced it. The second time, too. The third time, he answered. I don’t know what Serena said, but he immediately grabbed his jacket. “Her kitchen’s flooding. I have to go shut off the valve. I’ll be right back.” I set the ring down next to the cake. “I got my birthday present.” “What?” “A clear look at who you really are.” He stood at the door, hesitating, for a good ten seconds. Serena’s voice came through the phone again, urgent. “Wait for me.” The door closed behind him. I didn’t wait. The next morning, Ethan hadn’t come back. The ring sat where I’d left it, untouched. 4 The wedding planner notified me that the final payment for the reception had been declined. I checked our joint account. Of the original eighty thousand dollars, only two hundred and ten remained. Fifty thousand of that had been my savings, built up over years. I called Ethan. “Where did the money go?” He was quiet for a moment. “I lent it to Rena.” “How much?” “Seventy-nine thousand. Her father needs emergency surgery. I figured saving a life comes first. She’ll pay it back in a couple of months.” “Send me the transfer records.” “Quinn, don’t you think it’s a little heartless to bring this up right now?” I went straight to the hospital he’d mentioned. There was no record of Serena’s father in the inpatient ward. A mutual friend told me her father was back home, fishing. Nothing wrong with him. Serena had used the money to take over a flower shop. The shop was right below Ethan’s office, and the five-year lease was in Serena’s name alone. When I got there, Ethan was up on a ladder hanging the sign for her. Serena held the ladder, looking up at him with a smile. I pushed the door open. “So this is what my seventy-nine thousand looks like.” Serena’s expression shifted. “Quinn, this is a misunderstanding.” I placed the hospital inquiry form on the counter. “Which room is your father in?” Ethan climbed down from the ladder. “I was the one who told her to say it. I knew you wouldn’t agree to lend her money for a shop.” “So the two of you lied to me?” “Rena just lost her job. She needs something to do. It’s a good location. She won’t lose money. Once she’s making a profit, she’ll pay you back.” “Today is the day our parents are meeting to set the wedding date. Do you remember?” The color drained from Ethan’s face. He pulled out his phone. More than ten missed calls. “I lost track of time.” I nodded. “Then don’t bother going.” But he grabbed his jacket, and on his way out still reminded Serena to close up early. Not once, from start to finish, did he ask what that fifty thousand dollars meant to me. That was the money I’d been saving for my grandmother, Ruth. I’d planned to rent an elevator apartment near her place after the wedding. Ethan knew. He’d just never cared enough to remember. By the time we reached the restaurant, both families had been waiting for over an hour. Ethan’s mother, Diane, turned on me, her face hard. “Men get busy. As his fiancee, it’s your job to remind him. If you can’t even manage something this simple, how will you run a household?” Ethan tried to explain. “It’s not her fault. I was helping Rena put up the sign for her flower shop.” His mother frowned. “Is she still living with you two? An unmarried woman living in your marital home. Not even worried about what people will say.” “She doesn’t have family here. Don’t talk about her like that.” His defense came so fast that the entire table went silent. I pulled the wedding cancellation receipt, the dress order, and the bank statements from my bag, and laid them on the table one by one. “The wedding is off.” Ethan pressed his hand over the statements. “We’ll discuss this at home.” “That’s not my home.” I looked at the parents on both sides of the table. “Ethan let another woman move into our marital home for five months. He gave her his car. On my birthday, he left me to be with her.” “And without my permission, he took seventy-nine thousand dollars from our joint account to fund her flower shop.” “This wedding is not happening.” My uncle shot to his feet, but I held him back. “It’s all right.” “Look what he’s done to you!” “That’s why I’m done with him.” For the first time, panic flickered in Ethan’s eyes. “I’ll get the money back right away. Serena will move out. We can postpone the wedding. We’ll work it out.” “You still don’t understand.” I pulled my hand free. “I don’t want a postponement. I want this to be over.” At the door, he caught up with me. “Quinn, you’ve loved me all these years. How can you just stop?” I stopped and turned to face him. “It wasn’t sudden.” “Every time you set me aside to go to her, you took a piece with you.” “Today, there’s nothing left.”