Too Late, You Let Her Go

1: 1

Fresh out of grad school, I spent three months begging my boyfriend, a professional career planner, to help me map out my job search.

But it was always the same. He was too busy, or my major was worthless with no real prospects.

We stopped speaking for a whole month, until he finally caved.

He agreed to help me move my things out of the dorm and back to our place.

I packed everything and waited, on my feet until they ached and the sky went dark.

All I got was one message from Paul Walker:

"Traffic's bad. Our place isn't far from your school anyway. Just move it slowly, on your own."

I told myself to be understanding, and dragged the heavy boxes along inch by inch.

I finished, wrung out, and then I saw him in the campus group chat.

*Confession post! Our department's genius senior has been helping Janet Henson from the dance department plan her whole career, and now he's mapped out the next ten years for the rest of us too. What a steal!*

The man who always found me such a hassle had put together a whole stack of planning materials for another girl, without a single complaint.

The group chat blew up. So did something inside me.

My throat went tight, and out of spite I texted him that I wanted the strawberry cake from that shop by the campus south gate.

Three hours later, he finally replied:

*Sold out.*

But I was standing not far behind him, watching him hand that strawberry cake to the girl beside him with a smile all over his face.

"I remember strawberry's your favorite. Eat up."

"You're so good to me, senior. You bought me way more than I can finish~"

I stared at the two of them drifting further away as the shop clerk asked what cake I wanted.

I pointed at the blueberry cake off to the side, the one I hated most.

"That one."

I didn't want the strawberry cake anymore. From now on the life I planned for myself wouldn't have him in it either.

I took the cake and wandered down the street with nowhere to go.

I don't like blueberries. Even the smell makes me sick, and too much sends me into an allergic fit, vomiting.

But like some kind of self-punishment, I ate it one spoonful at a time.

As if that could prove I'd be fine without Paul.

The sting climbed up my nose until it went numb, and I forced it back down along with the tears.

Halfway down the street, my phone buzzed.

It was Paul's belated 'concern.'

*Are you mad?*

*The strawberry cake really was sold out. I'll go earlier next time and get it for you.*

*Be good. It's just a strawberry cake. Do you really have to throw a fit?*

I gave a bitter little laugh and was about to tell him it wasn't necessary, that none of it would be necessary anymore.

Then I heard that familiar laughing and teasing, and looked up to catch the two of them sitting on a bench by the road.

Feeding each other cake, flirting.

"Hey, who said you could eat that strawberry one? Give it back!"

"I bought it. I can't eat it now? Who made that rule?"

"You bought it for me, so you have to listen to me. I don't care, give it back!"

Janet pretended to pry his mouth open, and Paul caught her finger between his lips. Her face went red all the way to her earlobes.

My heart lurched, and the cake slipped from my hand to the ground, drawing both their eyes.

Once Janet saw it was me, she hopped off Paul's lap on her own.

"Senior, why are you here?"

"Don't get the wrong idea. He just felt bad about how hard my job search has been and bought me a little cake."

Paul's face soured.

"I just told you the strawberry cake was sold out, and you went and followed me on purpose?"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was the road he and I had walked on countless dates.

He'd bought me strawberry cake here more times than I could count, said he could walk this road with his eyes closed and never forget it.

And now he'd forgotten it this fast. His heart had turned this fast.

I blinked back the sting in my eyes and gathered up what was left of the cake.

"I was just passing by to buy cake. Didn't mean to interrupt your fun."

His face changed, and he stepped in front of me.

"Didn't I already tell you the strawberry cake was sold out? What are you still sulking about?"

His eyes swept to the blueberry cake in my hand, and his voice took on an edge of urgency.

"You're allergic to blueberries. Are you eating that on purpose just to spite me? Who's going to answer for it if you make yourself sick?"

There was a time he'd swear to me, over and over, that as long as he was there,

he would clear away every 'blueberry trap' around me.

But now, all I was to him was a hassle.

I curved my lips.

"Don't worry. Even if I end up in the hospital, I won't trouble you for so much as a finger."

I lifted my chin toward Janet.

"You'd better go eat your strawberry cake. It won't taste as good once the cream melts."

Janet bit down on her fork, the corners of her eyes going soft and red.

"Senior, if you want it, you can have mine. I wasn't trying to take him from you Don't blame him"

With that, I tossed the trash in my hand and walked away.

I hadn't gone far before my whole body started to itch, my vision went black, and I dropped to the ground.

I'd been so busy sulking that I forgot that shop used real ingredients, and had surely packed in plenty of blueberries.

Right before I blacked out completely, I thought I heard Paul calling out for me, frantic.

I couldn't help mocking my own imagination. How could he possibly care whether I lived or died.

In the muddled dark, the pain in my body dragged me back awake by force.

I opened my eyes to a pale wall, and Paul's knitted brows.

"Do you really have to take the act all the way to the hospital? You've scared Janet half to death. Get up and apologize to her."

I opened my mouth and no words came. My throat hurt like it had been run over by a car.

The doctor beside me couldn't stand it.

"The patient is still being treated for anaphylactic shock. She can't be moving around"

"I get it, you're in on the act with her too. Keep it up long enough and you'll believe it yourselves."

I couldn't be bothered to explain, and looked at the doctor with guilt.

Paul's chest heaved with fury. He gave a cold snort, turned, and left.

Leaving me alone to get through a whole afternoon of treatment.

By the time night fell, the doctor finally told me I could be discharged.

"You should let your family know to come get you. It's not good for you to go home alone."

The doctor meant well with the reminder, but all I could give was a bitter smile.

My parents divorced when I was little. My mother never cared for me, and my father, the one who always looked after me so tenderly, had passed away long ago.

I used to be foolish enough to believe Paul would protect me for the rest of my life.

But the truth was laid out in front of me, raw and bloody, and I couldn't keep lying to myself.

A storm was pouring down outside. I dug up the email my overseas advisor had sent me months ago, the one offering me a spot to study abroad.

I'd fought tooth and nail for that spot a year earlier.

Back then Paul had been dead set against it. He didn't want to go through the pain of a long-distance relationship.

He'd said anything to keep me by his side, to never be apart.

He'd promised to give me a stable future, guaranteed he'd pull every connection in the planning industry to find me a steady job.

I naively believed him, and firmly gave up going abroad.

I looked at the reminder: only two days left before the deadline.

I hesitated a moment, and then my finger pressed the 'confirm' button after all.

If there was no place for me in Paul's eyes, then I didn't need to hold on either.

2: 2

I got home worn out, my bag still hanging from my shoulder.

The first thing that reached my ears was Janet's laughter, bright as a little bell.

She was wearing my sexy pajamas, tucked into Paul's arms, scrolling through job listings on the iPad, thoroughly enjoying herself.

The neckline dipped so low that even from across the room I could see the faint curve of her.

Paul frowned when he heard me come in.

"You're back? Janet just couldn't decide what job to pick, so I'm helping her sort it out."

So it turned out sorting out a career plan could nearly end up in bed too.

I couldn't be bothered to waste my breath. I just nodded and went into the bathroom.

Even if the two of them crossed the line tonight, I wouldn't ask a single question about it.

Paul's eyes went wide. He clearly hadn't expected it.

That I would watch the two of them carry on so calmly, like some outsider who had nothing to do with any of it.

Janet's face crumpled at once, and she looked up at Paul, eyes rimmed red, careful and timid.

"Paul, is Lavinia mad at me? I didn't mean to."

Paul pinched her cheek, his voice full of doting affection.

"She's just got a sour face, always has. It'd be weird if you noticed anything else. Ignore her. Let's keep picking your job."

Janet whined, unconvinced.

"I told you not to pinch my cheeks, they'll get all puffy!"

The two of them started 'wrestling' on the couch.

By the time I'd finished my shower, Janet had already worn herself out and passed out asleep in our bed.

Sprawled out without a care, more like the lady of the house than I was.

Paul lay beside her, patting her the way you'd soothe a child.

Humming a tune under his breath.

When he saw me come in, he shot me a hard glare and pointed at the mat in the living room.

"Go sleep out there. Don't disturb Janet."

I had no objection to that. But when I reached for a pillow, he slapped my hand away, hard.

"There's only one pillow. If you take it, what's Janet supposed to use?"

I sighed and gave up, resigning myself to the mat in the living room.

The air went eerily, deathly still.

I heard the man walk slowly over to me, and then his voice came, sudden and cold.

"You're just angry I didn't make you a plan, aren't you? Here."

The words landed, and so did the folder, slammed down hard against my head. Blood ran out in an instant.

I clutched the cut on my forehead against the sting and looked at the few flimsy sheets inside the folder.

Like some absurd mockery aimed straight at me.

I didn't dare put it off. I opened it, terrified Paul would call me sour-faced and ungrateful.

There was only a single line on it.

*Education too low, ability too poor, unfit for any real responsibility. The best path forward is factory work.*

A single line and it nailed me to a pillar of shame, wiping out every ounce of effort and hard work of my four years in college.

It wasn't that Paul didn't know how many times I'd come in first, how many scholarships I'd won.

He just kept pretending he didn't, chipping away at my confidence, time after time.

When I happily told him my innovation-and-entrepreneurship team had placed, he scoffed and called it childish.

When I scored a perfect mark and ranked first overall, he'd insinuate that I must have pulled some strings.

Even when I got the spot to study abroad, all he could say was that giving it to me was a waste.

Back then I'd told myself he was all bark and no bite, that maybe deep down he actually thought I was amazing.

But watching him lay out a career plan for Janet down to the smallest detail, praising Janet, who'd been a terrible student, as clever, even introducing her to every connection he had around him.

That was when it finally hit me.

He had never loved me. He had never planned me into his future at all.

Paul watched me, taunting, as if he wanted my anger to give him a little jolt of pleasure.

But I didn't give it to him. I only nodded, flat.

"That's actually a good suggestion. I'll go see if there's a factory that'll take me."

With that, I turned over, lay down on the mat, and closed my eyes to sleep.

One bland, offhand line, and it landed like a bucket of cold water, dousing his expectations completely.

I heard the man grind his teeth in fury.

"Fine. You're born to slave away your whole life anyway. Days on the factory floor, and at night you come back and do my laundry and cooking. Perfect."

He spat it out, then spun around and slammed the door hard.

In the dark, I curled the corner of my mouth into a cold smile.

What he didn't know was that in a week I would be gone, gone from his world for good.

3: 3

The next morning I got up early and went to campus to pick up my diploma.

On my way out, I found the two of them tangled together, naked.

I didn't disturb them. I just pulled the bedroom door shut for them.

The place I'd be studying was Southport, which happened to be where my aunt lived too.

When I gave her the good news, she was so happy she nearly jumped out of her chair.

She promised to handle everything for me there, housing and transportation and all of it, and then she told me a piece of good news of her own.

"That childhood sweetheart of yours, Corey Sanchez, the one who moved away and transferred schools back then? He's here too, and he's an executive now!"

I was stunned. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined he would be there too.

In my memory, he had a clean, handsome face and a presence that stood out.

Back when I was a teenager and my heart first stirred, I really did catch myself blushing when I looked at him.

Thinking about seeing him again, I felt my face go warm all over again.

Once my aunt finished chattering, she sent me his contact information.

After we added each other, Corey and I fell back into an easy familiarity.

"When you get to Southport, your aunt and I will come pick you up together. Don't worry about anything here, just leave it to me."

Reading his message, I felt something in my chest loosen.

After thanking him, I started looking forward to my brand-new life, only days away.

Everything there would be fresh, no people or problems to trouble me. I could start over there.

Buoyant, I spent the next few days packing at home.

Paul didn't notice a thing. As if to punish me for not knowing my place, he stopped coming home.

He thought that was a punishment for me. He had no idea how much I enjoyed the peace.

All those days, Janet's posts kept updating too, showing off how her genius upperclassman was taking her sightseeing everywhere.

Every time, I quietly hit the like button, then watched my things get carried out piece by piece, filled with the sweet relief of finally getting free.

Watching the mover handle my boxes roughly, knocking into my study-abroad documents by accident, I couldn't help scolding under my breath.

"Careful there, that one's important!"

The words were barely out when Paul suddenly walked in, arms full of bags, his face startled.

"What's important? What are you doing?"

Then he looked around the emptied-out living room, more shocked still.

Not letting anything show, I stepped in front of the packages and brushed it off. "It's nothing. My dad came in from back home to see a doctor, so I rented a place to stay with him. I'm moving my things over there first."

He looked at the luggage, a little puzzled, but nodded and didn't press.

I laughed at myself. It seemed he still hadn't taken a word I said to heart.

My father had died long ago. How could he possibly come looking for me?

But Paul didn't care about me, and he certainly wasn't going to care about the lie I told.

He opened his bag and set an unappetizing-looking bowl of shrimp porridge in front of me.

"You've been moving stuff all morning, you must be hungry. I brought this specially for you, hurry and eat it while it's hot."

But I didn't pick up the spoon. I only looked at him steadily. "Paul, I'm allergic to shrimp. You don't know that?"

Besides, one look at the bowl and you could tell it was someone else's leftovers.

Paul's hand paused over his own porridge. Forcing down the guilt in his eyes, he snapped at me, "An allergy won't kill you. Can you stop making such a fuss?"

I didn't argue. I just went to the kitchen and cooked myself a bowl of noodles.

Paul sat alone at the dining table, waiting for me to back down, the way he always did.

Every fight before this, he'd freeze me out until I was the one to apologize first and end it.

But this time I wasn't going to apologize, and I certainly wasn't going to turn back.

I'd made myself a bowl of birthday noodles, and it wasn't until I carried them out that Paul realized, belatedly, that today was my birthday.

He cracked a smile and rushed to take the bowl and set it on the table.

"It's your birthday today, I was so busy I almost forgot. Why didn't you say something sooner?"

I let out a cold little laugh. The huge calendar hanging in the living room still had it marked, in his own hand.

"Today is Lavinia's birthday. I'll spend it with her my whole life. We'll be happy forever!"

Back then he'd promised me so earnestly. "Lavinia, I'll never forget the promises I made you, not for the rest of my life. You're my one and only little princess."

But now he'd not only forgotten, he'd pinned all the blame on me.

Seeing my face stay so calm, he looked a little embarrassed and reached for my hand. "Lavinia, I really didn't mean to. I admit I've been ignoring how you feel lately. How do you want to make your birthday up? I'll do whatever you say."

The old me would have gladly forgiven every wrong he'd ever done. But now there wasn't a shred of expectation left in me.

I only counted down quietly in my heart. Three more days, and I could leave him for good.

Let that last make-up gift be the period at the end of our four tangled years.

I thought about it for a long moment, then said flatly, "Then let's ride the Ferris wheel once."

The Ferris wheel had been the site of every tender, heart-swelling date since we got together in college. It was the witness to our love.

Where it began was where it would end.

Paul agreed happily, hope glinting in his eyes. "Yes, of course, it really has been ages since we rode it. Don't worry, I'll give you a memory you'll never forget."

I only nodded and turned back to packing the last of my things.

He must have sensed something off in my mood and wanted to say more, but a ringtone cut him off.

The next second he hurried out, without so much as a goodbye.

I finished the bowl of birthday noodles in silence. My phone lit up with an eighty-thousand-dollar transfer from Corey.

"Happy birthday, my Princess Lavinia."

But I would never accept it again.

4: 4

With one day left on the countdown, Paul finally remembered I existed.

He deigned to send me a message:

"Lavinia, one o'clock this afternoon, under the Ferris wheel in Northbrook. Don't be late."

I looked around his empty apartment, as if I had never belonged here at all.

I replied with a single "okay," ready to put an end to all of it.

But when I got there, he was nowhere in sight. What I saw instead was Janet, happily posing for photos.

She saw me walking over and lifted a bright smile.

"Lavinia, are you here to see my bridal shoot too?"

"Paul is really something. He said he wanted to surprise me, and then he went and called you here on purpose. So embarrassing!"

A bridal shoot? The two of them were getting married?

My mind went blank, but I held onto my smile and offered her my congratulations.

"So that's it. Then I really do wish you the best."

Janet smiled sweetly, but the venom in her eyes seeped out as she gripped my arm and hissed through her teeth.

"You think Paul likes you? He's already slept with me more times than I can count. You're just an ugly nobody who can't hold onto a man."

I had no intention of arguing, but she shrieked and threw herself backward.

"Lavinia, why did you push me?"

The next second, a hard slap came flying at me.

I cupped my swollen, stinging cheek, looked up at Paul's furious face, and understood that Janet had staged all of it.

"Why did you push Janet? What a vicious heart you have!"

With that, he scooped Janet up in his arms, aching with concern for her, and hurried off without sparing me so much as a glance.

I let out a bitter laugh and dialed Corey.

"Everything's arranged on my end. My flight's tonight. I'll be there tomorrow."

Corey's voice lifted with excitement.

"Good. I'll be waiting for you here. Don't worry, I've got everything ready for you."

I nodded, at ease, and headed for the airport.

Wheeling my suitcases along, right before boarding, several messages came in from Paul.

"Lavinia, I'm advising you to go apologize to Janet properly. I can pretend none of this ever happened."

"Where are you? Playing blind, ignoring my messages?"

"I'm giving you one last chance. Don't push your luck!"

I didn't reply. I just muted him.

In the last second before I boarded, he went off like a madman, one message after another.

"Lavinia? Why aren't you home?"

"Lavinia? Your dad never came in at all!! You lied to me!"

"Lavinia, where on earth did you go? Answer me now!"

I switched off my phone and looked down at the endless stretch of sky, as if to cast off every last trace of the past.