Chapter 1My boyfriend's basically a robot.
Our texts? "Yeah." "K." "Got it." That's it.
Zero emojis. Zero sweet talk.
Then one day he's driving. Tells me to answer a work text on his phone.
I type "Hey sor—"
Phone finishes it for me:
"Hey sorry babe, does your stomach still hurt?"
I just sat there. Staring at those words.
Turns out he could do sweet talk after all.
Turns out his keyboard saved someone else's whole routine.
HIS soft voice. HIS concern. HIS tenderness.
All the shit he never gave ME? All to her.
I deleted it. Sent his boring-ass work reply.
Back home, I didn't wait around like usual.
Screw that.
I called a realtor right then. Listed MY apartment that same night.
He could keep whoever the hell "babe" was.
But MY home? He's out!
---
When I got home, I stood in the doorway forever.
Lights were on. Place looked normal.
But something was off.
I went to the kitchen. Poured water.
Then I saw it.
Lunch container in the sink. Cute one. Pastel pink lid, little note stuck on the side—totally soaked now.
I pulled it out. Held it up to the light.
This isn't Ryder's style.
Opened the fridge.
Broccoli. Shrimp. Bell peppers. Steak cubes. Cherry tomatoes all lined up like a damn magazine shoot.
Receipt at the bottom. Yesterday's date.
Everything bought twice.
My hands went cold.
Last winter I had a 103 fever. Begged him to make me oatmeal.
He looked at the stove and goes, "I don't even know how to work that thing."
Now?
He's meal-prepping for someone else.
I went to the bedroom. Opened his closet.
Cologne hit me first. Woodsy. Expensive.
I bought him a baby blue sweater once. Handed it to him all proud.
He glanced at it for like two seconds.
"Your taste is trash."
Returned it the same day.
But now?
Two new shirts hanging there. Cream. Light gray. Pressed perfect.
Cologne bottle next to them. Brand I've never seen.
I stared at that bottle so long I started laughing.
Guess he can change.
Just not for me.
I didn't sleep at all that night.
Next morning, I threw on a jacket. Drove straight to his office.
Receptionist knows me. Smiled real big.
"Want me to call Mr. Hale?"
"Nah. I'm good."
Then walked right in.
Saw him first. Then saw her.
She's young. Like, college-intern young. Light blue sweater. Hair in a low ponytail. Smiles with her whole face.
Lunch container on her desk.
Same one I saw in the sink.
I stopped walking.
She saw me first. Jumped up. Walked over.
"Oh my god, hi! You must be Ryder's girlfriend."
She's so smiley it's creepy.
"I'm Sienna. I'm his assistant. Been here like a year and a half?"
"Ryder's taught me so much. When I started I literally knew nothing. He's been amazing."
I'm staring at that container on her desk.
I made breakfast for five years.
Woke up at 5:30 every morning.
Eggs. Oatmeal. Pancakes. Switched it up every day.
Ryder never ate it.
Just drank water and left.
But he learned to cook for her.
Ryder came out. Saw me. Froze for a second.
"What're you doing here?"
He walks over. Checks his watch.
"It's almost lunch. Wanna grab something?"
We ended up at this Italian place downtown.
Waiter came over with menus.
Ryder takes it. Doesn't even look up.
Just started rattling off.
"Yeah, gimme this, this, and this one. No cilantro. Go easy on the salt and oil. And rice—not pasta."
Sienna's smiling. "You remember all that?"
Ryder shrugs. "I mean, yeah. That's what you always get."
Then he slid the menu over to me.
"Pick whatever."
I didn't even read it. Just pointed.
"Spicy chicken."
Ryder didn't say anything.
But Sienna tilted her head. "Wait—I thought you couldn't handle spicy?"
Ryder looked up.
"Oh. Yeah. Get something else."
I closed the menu. Pushed it back.
"I'm fine. I can handle it."
Not trying to fight. Just tired.
Halfway through, Sienna drops her fork.
Ryder waves the waiter over. Grabs her a new one before she even asks.
I looked down at my water.
One time I dropped my fork at home. He just frowned.
"Can you be more careful?"
We walked out. Wind picked up.
Sienna's cold. Pulls her arms in.
Ryder takes off his jacket. Puts it on her.
"Wind's bad. Wear this."
I'm standing right there.
Thought about last winter, friend's dinner party. I was freezing.
Someone joked, "Dude, give her your jacket."
Ryder goes, "If I give it to her, what am I supposed to wear?"
I didn't wanna hear anymore.
Started walking. Fast.
He jogged up behind me.
"Yo, why're you booking it like that?"
I stopped. Turned around.
"When'd you learn to cook?"
He blinked. Like he didn't expect that.
"Uh… couple months ago? Sienna was like, 'guys should know how to cook.' I dunno, made sense."
"I asked you for five years."
He frowned. "That was forever ago. People grow up, okay?"
"The shirts?"
"Sienna said dark colors make me look old. Told me I gotta keep up with stuff."
"Cologne?"
"She picked it out. Said it looks more professional or whatever."
My chest hurt so bad I thought I'd pass out.
"I bought you clothes. You said my taste was trash."
Ryder's face went annoyed.
"Jo, why do you keep bringing up old shit?"
"I'm better now. I'll do this stuff for you too later. Okay?"
Later.
I just stood there.
Didn't wanna say anything anymore.
I've seen that look on his face a million times.
I ask questions? He acts like I'm annoying him.
I back off? He thinks we're good.
Five years.
Same cycle.
Over and over.
Chapter 2
Back home, I sat on the couch. Called the realtor.
"Drop the price. Sell it fast."
Next morning, I didn't make breakfast.
Ryder woke up. Stared at the empty counter.
"Where's breakfast?"
I sipped my water.
"Didn't feel like it."
He frowned. "So what am I supposed to eat?"
I looked at him.
"You know how to cook now. Make it yourself. And you never ate mine anyway."
He stood there. Then actually went into the kitchen.
Twenty minutes later, comes out with a sandwich and a salad. Puts it in front of me.
"I made it. You eat too."
I looked at the plate.
First time he's ever cooked for me.
And it's her food.
I pushed the plate away.
Ryder looked confused. "You're not hungry?"
"Don't want it."
That night, he called me. Voice tight.
"What'd you do all day? Why didn't you bring me lunch?"
I'm on the balcony. Watching the trees.
"Didn't feel like it."
Silence.
"What's wrong with you lately?"
"Did you see something at the office yesterday?"
I hung up.
He came home. Living room felt like a pressure cooker.
I spoke first.
"Ryder. Let's break up."
He looked at me. Like I told a joke.
"What're you talking about now?"
"I'm serious."
He sighed.
"Is this about Sienna?"
"I told you, I'll do that stuff for you too."
"You're seriously gonna throw away five years over this?"
I stared at him.
"This isn't small."
His face went cold.
"Jo, what do you even do all day? You don't clean anymore. You don't cook."
"Think about it—you eat my food. You live in my house. I'm out there busting my ass to keep this place running."
"So what the hell are you so upset about?"
You eat my food. Live in my place.
Felt like ice water down my spine.
My fingers went numb.
This house? I bought it.
I paid the down payment. I pay the mortgage.
Three years ago, headquarters offered me a promotion. Different city.
Ryder said, "If you leave, who's gonna take care of stuff here?"
I turned it down.
He didn't even say thanks.
Now he's saying I don't do anything.
"This house is mine."
"You've lived here five years. Never paid a cent."
Ryder froze. Then frowned.
"Didn't you use my money for it?"
I couldn't say anything.
Five years. Everything I did for this house. For him.
He never saw it.
He softened his voice.
"Okay, okay. Don't fight over this."
"I'll take you to dinner tomorrow. Deal?"
I didn't answer.
Next morning, house sold.
Realtor called. Said come sign.
After signing, I went to my dad's.
His pill bottle was almost empty.
"Dad, how come you didn't refill these?"
He pulled his glasses off. Real slow.
"Didn't you tell me Ryder was gonna get me in with that heart specialist? Figured I'd just wait."
I froze.
Three months ago, I asked Ryder to book my dad a cardiology appointment.
He said, "Yeah, I'll ask around."
Never brought it up again.
I didn't push. Because every time I ask him for something, he acts like I'm annoying.
But last month?
Sienna mentioned wanting a dermatologist.
He booked her same day.
Dad's still talking.
"You guys got that five-year thing coming up soon, yeah? Thought he was gonna take you to see Mount Fuji or something?"
"Your mom... she left us way too soon. All I want now is for you to be happy. Long as he's good to you, I can rest easy."
I looked down at the empty pill bottle.
My nose stung so bad.
I didn't cry.
If I cried, Dad would know.
I went out to get his refill.
Stepped outside. Couldn't take it anymore. Crouched on the steps and rubbed my eyes hard.
On the way back, Ryder texted.
"Free this weekend. Wanna go out?"
I stared at it forever. Typed back.
"Sure."
That weekend, I got dressed up. Actually put on a dress.
Was tying my shoes when Ryder called.
"Sienna's presentation crashed. She's freaking out. Gonna help her real quick."
"Just an hour."
I held the phone.
"Okay."
One hour.
Two hours.
Three hours.
Called him. Busy signal.
Texted him. He replied:
"Almost done."
Four hours later, he showed up. Looked guilty.
"Let's go."
We walked around the mall for like twenty minutes.
His phone rang.
Sienna. Crying. Said the file crashed again.
Ryder looked at me. Mouth opened like he wanted to say something.
But then he just said, "I gotta go."
I looked at him. Felt nothing.
"Go."
He walked two steps. Turned around.
His eyes looked sorry.
But sorry didn't beat Sienna's call.
Chapter 3
Few days later, Ryder came home happy. Holding a shopping bag.
"Got you a dress."
Handed it to me. Casual.
"Didn't you say you needed new clothes?"
I took it. Pulled out the tag.
Size S.
My finger stopped on that letter.
I wear M.
We've been together five years. He knows that.
I stared at the tag. Suddenly everything made sense.
"What's wrong?" Ryder frowned. "Don't like it?"
I folded the dress. Put it back in the bag.
"Wrong size."
"I'm a medium."
Ryder paused. Shrugged.
"Oh. Just exchange it then."
I put the bag on the couch. Didn't touch it again.
That moment, I realized.
I've become a blur to him.
He can't see my shape.
Can't remember my size.
Even when I'm standing right in front of him, Ryder didn't notice.
He tossed his keys on the table. Sat down.
"Oh yeah. Gotta tell you something."
I nodded.
"Company's got this project in Japan. Flying to Tokyo next week. About five days."
"Who're you going with?"
"Taking Sienna. She's handling the logistics. Good experience for her."
I was quiet.
"Our five-year anniversary. That's next month, right?"
He blinked. "Yeah. Why?"
"You promised you'd take me to see Mount Fuji."
He frowned. "This is a work trip. Not vacation. I'll take you for the anniversary. What's the problem?"
"The company planned the whole thing. What am I supposed to do?"
But that night, I saw the flight confirmation on his phone.
Besides the Tokyo roundtrip, he added an extra day.
Mount Fuji day tour.
If it was just work, I could lie to myself.
But that extra day? He paid for that himself.
He wants to see Mount Fuji.
Just not with me.
Night before he left, Ryder packed.
I sat on the bed. Watched him fold clothes.
"Ryder."
"Yeah?"
"You never kept a single promise you made me."
He stopped. Voice annoyed.
"Why do you always bring up the past?"
"I said I'd take you. I will. Why're you rushing me?"
I didn't say anything.
He zipped the suitcase. Grabbed it. Walked to the door.
Looked back at me.
"Stop being dramatic."
"I'll bring you a gift."
Door closed.
House went quiet.
I sat on the bench by the door. Stared at the crack of light fading under the door.
Pulled out my phone. Made two calls.
One to the realtor.
One to a moving company.
Next two days, I finished everything.
Packed all of Ryder's stuff. Clothes. Shoes. Laptop. Toolbox.
And those light-colored shirts Sienna picked. And the cologne.
Five years of life.
Fit into six boxes.
Lighter than I thought.
Before I left, I looked at the place one last time.
Then grabbed my suitcase and walked out.
Didn't look back.
Fourth day of Ryder's Japan trip. 10 PM.
He just got back to the hotel. Phone buzzed.
His buddy texted.
"Bro, why'd your girl sell the house?"
