Seven Years Wasted

My boyfriend of seven years, Ethan Brooks, suddenly became obsessed with theater. He spent all his time at the playhouse, practically living there. On our anniversary, I drove to pick him up, carrying a cake I had spent the entire day baking at a dessert studio. But outside the theater, Ethan was holding hands with Madison Vance, his high school crush who worked as a stage actress there. He looked at me and ordered me to take off my coat and lay it over the puddle in front of the passenger door. "Babe, your beautiful feet will get ruined if they get wet," Ethan said to her. Madison blushed, looking incredibly shy. "Oh, Ethan, stop it. There are other people here. You’re making a fool of me in front of Chloe." Ethan then pushed me out of the driver's seat. "It’s pouring out here. She’s a talented, beautiful actress—what if she catches a cold? You, on the other hand, are tough. Think of the rain as a free shower." Madison stared at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Chloe, I have a show tomorrow and really need to get back early for my beauty sleep. Thanks for the ride!" It was pouring, and the theater was in a remote area. It took me three hours of walking in the freezing rain to finally get home. I immediately canceled our restaurant reservation and returned the luxury Rolex watch I had bought for him. I was done with this relationship. The moment I stepped inside the house, I felt a deep chill in my bones, and my forehead was burning hot. I popped some fever reducers, wrapped myself in a thick blanket, and sat at my desk to prep my lecture notes. It was past midnight when the front door finally clicked open. Ethan’s tie was loosened, his suit jacket was wrinkled, and a few messy strands of hair fell over his forehead. There was a faint smudge of dark red lipstick on his collar. He didn’t offer a single explanation for coming home so late. I walked up to him and held out my hand. "My car keys." Ethan immediately frowned, looking defensive and alert. "What’s the rush?" I caught a strong whiff of an unfamiliar, sweet rose perfume radiating from him. "I left some documents in the car," I said calmly. "I need them for my academic presentation tomorrow." He hesitated for a moment before slowly fishing the keys out of his pocket. Down in the garage. I searched the back seat for my files. The car was suffocatingly sweet with that cheap rose scent. Suddenly, my hand froze. I spotted a piece of red lace fabric stuck between the seat cushions. It was a pair of sexy red lace panties. I had never owned anything like that. I walked back up and handed them to Ethan. As I sat back down at my desk to look over my files, I said quietly, "These must belong to that woman. Remember to give them back." Ethan stared at the lace in his hand. The next second, he exploded. "Are you out of your mind, Chloe? Madison just borrowed your car to change her clothes! How can you think of her so disgustingly? Nothing happened!" "Who do you think you are to insult Madison like that?" I hadn’t accused him of anything, nor had I raised my voice. But his guilt-ridden conscience made him explode like a firework. "I just found them. I’m telling you to return them..." I was sick, exhausted, and completely drained from walking in the rain. I didn't want to fight. "You’re just jealous because you’ve let yourself go and look like a dowdy housewife, while Madison is gorgeous and young! Even a piece of sexy underwear triggers your insecurity!" Seeing that I wasn’t taking the bait, Ethan redirected his unvented rage into a personal attack. "Look at you, always looking so plain and tired. You’re not even thirty, yet you don’t even try to dress up. Is this how a woman is supposed to live? It makes me sick just looking at you." "Go look in the mirror. You look like a total nerd. Books have rotted your brain." A wave of dizziness hit me. I clutched my documents tightly. "You always have to ruin my mood the moment I get home. Whatever. Sleep alone tonight. I’m staying at a hotel." With that, Ethan slammed the door and left. Ever since Madison’s theater troupe arrived in New York, Ethan had been obsessed. He practically lived at the playhouse, often not coming home for days. I remembered back in college, when the academic workload was brutal and I didn’t care about makeup, I always went bare-faced. Back then, Ethan would hold my hand and say, Chloe, I love how natural and pure you are. When I got my PhD acceptance letter, he spun me around in the middle of the street. He told everyone his girlfriend was the smartest, most hardworking woman in the world. How ironic that the very things he once praised were now the weapons he used to tear me down. The next day, I finished my work at the university around noon. I used to wake up early every day to pack him lunch, then drive to his office during my break so we could eat together. Ethan was a picky eater and hated New York's greasy takeout, so I had learned to cook his favorite home-style comfort meals. He used to praise my cooking, and seeing him happy made me happy. By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, my car was already parked outside his office building. I had acted out of sheer habit. Just like how I had habitually believed his promise that he would love me forever. I smiled bitterly at my own foolishness. I walked into a diner nearby, ordered some mild food, and made sure to tell them no seafood. But when I reached his office, his assistant, Mia, told me Ethan hadn't come in today. In fact, he had been skipping work a lot lately. I called his phone, but it went straight to voicemail. A passing colleague overheard us and chimed in, "Ethan's been obsessed with that theater lately. Why don't you check there, Chloe?" "I saw him shopping with one of the actresses the other day. Honestly, is he in love with theater, or is he in love with the actress?" Mia quickly nudged him to shut up. Silence fell over the hallway. My head throbbed, and my ears rang. I couldn't tell if it was from the fever or the betrayal. I forced a smile. "Right. Thanks."When I opened the dressing room door backstage, the two of them were squeezed onto a single chair. Ethan had his arm around Madison's waist, watching adoringly as she playfully tapped his lips with a makeup brush. Madison saw me first. "Chloe! What are you doing here? Did you come to see my show?" I replied calmly, "From what I know, you and Ethan were classmates. You're older than me, so you don't need to act like you're younger." Madison feigned innocence, giggled behind her hand, and remained silent. Ignoring her, I handed the lunchbox to Ethan. "Your lunch." Before Ethan could speak, Madison snatched it from my hand and opened it. "Wow, this looks amazing! Ethan, can I have some?" Ethan pinched her cheek playfully. "If you like it, it's yours, babe." I watched Madison pick through the food, taking bites of everything. I looked at Ethan. "Then what am I supposed to eat?" Ethan tore his eyes away from Madison, looked around the room, and picked up a half-eaten takeout container left by a staff member. "Here, this is still warm." Inside the plastic container were leftover fish tacos, greasy and covered in fish bones and slimy skin. It was sickening. More importantly, I am severely allergic to seafood. I don't eat fish. When I didn't take it, Ethan defended himself: "Your stomach is made of steel anyway. Madison is delicate; she needs proper nutrition." Madison chimed in with a mouthful of food. "Oh, Chloe, I didn't know this was your lunch. My bad." "Though," she nibbled on her fork, looking incredibly smug, "I thought women who dressed as plainly as you would at least be amazing cooks. I guess not." Ethan tapped her nose. "You little foodie, always so picky." He then turned to me, his face hardening into annoyance. "Alright, if you don't have anything else, you should leave. Madison needs to get ready for the stage." The moment the door closed behind me, their laughter echoed through the hallway. Rumors were one thing, but seeing it with my own eyes was a dull blade sawing through my heart. Ethan didn't come home until midnight. He tossed a shopping bag onto the table next to me. "Look, I know it was wrong of Madison to eat your lunch. Don't be childish. I got you these cosmetics to make it up to you." He dumped out a few small tubes, packets, and tiny plastic jars. "If you like them, I'll get you more." He smiled and went to take a shower. I didn't know much about makeup, but I recognized the luxury brand logo on the bag. For a second, I felt a pang of nostalgia. When we first started dating, we were broke students. Ethan would skip meals just to save up and buy me little gifts. I remembered watching Madison's play with him earlier. I had found it boring, but when I looked over, Ethan had tears in his eyes. Once, during a night of heavy drinking with his friends, Ethan had let slip a secret. Madison was his high school muse. Back when everyone else was buried in books, Madison was vibrant, beautiful, and wild. He had been utterly obsessed. But they went down different paths after graduation. Until they crossed paths again in New York. His tears during the play weren't for the art. They were for his lost youth, his unresolved desires, and the girl who got away. But in reality, he was just greedy. I looked closely at the tiny makeup items. Suddenly, a receipt slipped out of the bag. It was a long list of luxury cosmetics, totaling thousands of dollars. And then I realized. The "gifts" he gave me were just the free samples that came with a massive luxury set. The room still smelled of the heavy rose perfume Ethan brought home. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I was tired of being the paranoid, jealous girlfriend. I didn't even have the energy to wonder who got the actual full-sized products. Ethan walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair. Seeing me staring at the samples, he started lecturing me again. "You really need to start dressing up, Chloe. You look like a mess every day. Aren't you embarrassed to stand next to me?" "By the way, what are your plans for your day off tomorrow?"Tomorrow was my birthday. In the early days, Ethan would plan elaborate surprises. As the years went on, the grand gestures faded, but we would still go to a nice restaurant or spend the day at an amusement park. But this year, I wanted nothing. "Just staying home." Ethan nodded abstractedly, his eyes glued to his phone. He was texting furiously on Snapchat, a stupid grin plastered on his face. I ignored him. Earlier that day, Dr. Vanessa Campbell, a professor I deeply respected during my PhD, had reached out. She had a research project that aligned perfectly with my field and invited me to join her institute. She had invited me multiple times before, but I had always politely declined. Because her institute was on the other side of the country in sunny California, far away from the life Ethan and I had built in New York. I sat at my computer, researching Dr. Campbell's project. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan take a quick call and rush out the door. When I woke up the next morning, his side of the bed was cold. He hadn't come home all night. Without his constant criticism and belittling, the apartment felt incredibly peaceful. I hummed a tune as I drove to NYU. The main hall was decorated with banners and lights. It was the university's 70th anniversary, and many alumni had returned to visit. Suddenly, I heard a familiar, high-pitched voice nearby. "A student just mistook me for a freshman! Do I really look that young, Ethan?" I turned around. Madison was clinging to Ethan's arm, and Ethan was playfully pinching her nose. It hit me then. He hadn't asked about my plans to celebrate my birthday. He was just making sure I wouldn't run into him while he paraded his crush around my workplace. They spotted me. Madison immediately tightened her grip on Ethan's arm and smiled smugly. "Oh, Chloe! What a coincidence." "I heard you teach here. A PhD, huh? How impressive." Ethan sneered beside her. "Impressive? She's just a boring nerd. She's useless outside of books—just a plain Jane." "Well, Chloe, you should really try wearing some makeup. They say a beautiful woman is the only one who can keep a man's heart," Madison said, her words dripping with malice. I kept my face expressionless, ignoring them completely. I just wanted to get to my office. Suddenly, the overhead lights flickered and went out. The entire hall plunged into darkness. The crowd immediately panicked, and Madison let out a dramatic shriek of terror. I stood perfectly still. There was construction on campus; it was probably just a minor power outage. But suddenly, a heavy figure rammed violently into me. I was knocked hard onto the concrete floor, a searing pain exploding in my right shoulder. A second later, the backup generators kicked in, and the lights flickered back on. Ethan, who had been standing next to me, was now holding Madison tightly in his arms. There was no one else near us. Seeing me on the floor, a flash of panic crossed Ethan's face. "Chloe... I was in a rush. I must have accidentally bumped into you." My right arm throbbed as if it had been run over by a truck. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and I bit my lip to keep from crying. When I didn't answer, Madison chimed in: "Chloe, Ethan didn't mean to. You should forgive him." Ethan grew impatient. "I already apologized! What more do you want? It was an accident. Do you have to be so immature in front of Madison?" "Besides, you were the one standing in the middle of the hallway. You should have moved when the lights went out." I didn't say a word. I grabbed my bag, clutched my shoulder, and walked out. Only when I stepped out of the building did I let my tears fall. During those few seconds of darkness, I had felt a brief moment of peace, as if all my problems had vanished. But the man who brutally shoved me aside just to protect another woman shattered that illusion completely. I went straight to our apartment, packed my bags—my plain clothes, toiletries, and piles of research papers. I sent Ethan a Snapchat message ending things, blocked him on every platform, and drove out of the city.