
Caleb Sterling realized that I had stopped consulting him about everything. When the company offered me an overseas assignment, I signed the papers before I even thought to ask for his opinion. When my best friend invited me to her wedding with a "plus one," I attended alone and gave a generous gift. Even when it came to surgery and hospitalization, I handled the appointments and booked the bed myself. Caleb, being a doctor, frowned when he eventually found out. "You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Give me your records; I’ll make the arrangements for you." I blurted out instinctively: "I can handle it myself. I don't want to trouble you. Thank you." The moment those words left my mouth, we both froze. After all, only half a month ago, I was the "clingy giant infant" he complained about—the one who messaged him to ask which dress to wear on a date or what to eat for lunch. 1 "You want the surgery tomorrow? That’s sudden." The attending physician handed me my chart, his voice tinged with confusion. "I recall Dr. Sterling is coming back from his seminar soon. You could wait for him to accompany you..." I interrupted softly, "It’s my own business. I can handle it." The doctor looked surprised. After all, I was notoriously "delicate" in this hospital; even for a minor headache or a slight fever, I used to insist that Caleb stay by my side. Just as I stepped out of the clinic, I bumped into a familiar figure. Caleb was pushing a suitcase with one hand, looking like he had just rushed from the airport back to the hospital. Lydia Vance followed closely behind him, wearing a white lab coat with a black cashmere coat draped over it—the very coat I had given Caleb for our third anniversary. Caleb frowned. "What are you doing here? ... Are you sick again?" Again. That familiar note of impatience made it sound as if I were a troublesome chore that needed handling. He snatched the medical records from my hand, scanned them briefly, and commanded: "I have things to do tomorrow." "This isn't an emergency. Move the surgery to next week, and I’ll go with you." I blurted out instinctively: "I can handle it myself. I don't want to trouble you. Thank you." The excessive politeness and distance made Caleb freeze. After all, the old me would cry and act spoiled over a paper cut. I used to bomb his phone with messages just to have him pick an outfit for dinner. From my three meals a day to major life decisions, I used to consult him on everything. Now, I was facing surgery alone without batting an eye. If we hadn't bumped into each other by chance, my own boyfriend wouldn't even have known. I snatched the records back, accidentally knocking a small box out of Caleb’s hand. The name on the box caught my eye—a pack of... birth control pills. "Don't get the wrong idea." Caleb leaned down to pick it up, his voice carrying a businesslike detachment. "Lydia has severe menstrual cramps. This is a common prescription to help." Lydia pulled the coat tighter around her, explaining in a small, panicked voice: "I'm so sorry, Piper. Caleb was supposed to head home, but I was so useless—the pain was so bad I couldn't stand, so I bothered him to help me get the prescription filled." She paused, her tone full of sincere envy. "If only I could be as independent as you, Piper. Then Caleb wouldn't have to work so hard running around for me." Once, I had severe abdominal pain and asked Caleb which specialist I should see. What did the youngest deputy head of neurosurgery at a top hospital say? He said, "I don't know." When I complained about his dismissiveness, he pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, looking at me like I was a nagging child. "Can't you just Google something that small?" "You're an adult. Can't you be a little more independent? Stop relying on me like a toddler." "I'm not your parent. I'm not obligated to teach you basic life skills." How hilarious. He was a man of few words for his girlfriend, yet for his "junior," he personally accompanied her to the clinic and filled her prescriptions. An outsider would have thought Lydia was his actual partner. If this were the past, I would have lost my temper and started a scene right there. But now, I just said, "Oh," my voice flat. "Pills aren't enough. You should also massage her stomach, hold her while she sleeps, and keep her hands and feet warm." Lydia’s face flushed deep red. "Piper, I didn't mean it like that..." My well-meaning advice was interpreted by Caleb as a tantrum. His voice turned cold. "Are you still throwing a fit? Just because I didn't report every detail of my trip to you?" Half a month ago was his birthday. I had worked crazy overtime to finish a project so I could take time off. I cooked a whole dinner and picked up a custom-made gift, waiting to celebrate with him. I waited until midnight, and Caleb never came home. Only through Lydia’s Instagram did I find out he had left for an international exchange program. Caleb brushed it off later. "It was just a business trip. There was no need to consult you." "Birthdays happen every year, but career opportunities don't. I thought you'd be able to distinguish between what's urgent and what's not." "Don't you have your own things to do? Why are you always obsessing over my movements?" My accumulated disappointment was like a bursting dam. I couldn't help questioning him: "Caleb, is it because in your 'urgent and important' list, I am always the least urgent and most unimportant one?" Compared to my near-hysteria, Caleb just said one thing before hanging up. "You're not being rational right now. We'll talk when I'm back." 2 Once I calmed down, I signed the transfer papers for the new job. My boss hesitated. "Transferring means moving to another city! You should consult your boyfriend about something this big. You're a person with a partner; don't be so reckless." I signed my name briskly. "No need." The last time I changed jobs, I held two offers and asked for his opinion. Caleb just glanced at them. "This is your career. You shouldn't let me decide." Yet, he patiently helped Lydia fill out her internship applications, helping her get into the best hospital program in the country. Caleb always said I wasn't independent enough and complained about me being too "needy." He would put on headphones to listen to medical podcasts while I was excitedly sharing my day, acting as if I didn't exist. He would refuse to drive me when I was running late, emphasizing that his schedule couldn't be disrupted for me. I wanted to join his gatherings with friends, but he said I should establish my own social life. I used to think Caleb was just naturally distant. And that I, through enough patience, could be the exception. Until Lydia appeared. She was the daughter of Caleb’s parents' old friends, and he was entrusted with looking after her. I thought he would find it a chore, but he agreed readily. I didn't expect that she would be the exception. Caleb responded to every single one of her complaints about her neighbors. When she wanted a trendy dessert for her birthday, he drove across town to get it. During her residency at the hospital, he actively introduced her to his colleagues: "This is my junior; take care of her." Whenever I fought with Caleb about this, he would frown with disappointment. "She's a kid. Are you a kid too?" "I'm looking after her out of responsibility. You're actually jealous of this?" "How old is she, and how old are you? Why don't you just compare yourself to a newborn?" But his "kid" was only three years younger than me. All the excuses I had made for him—it's just his personality, he’s too busy, he hates clingy people... They all shattered in the face of the patience he showed another woman. That’s fine. After I have my surgery and leave tomorrow, Caleb will have nothing to do with me anymore. 3 My best friend Chloe knew I was having surgery and took time off to stay with me. "Get the guest room ready and prepare to welcome your personal nurse!" I laughed and said: "I've cleaned the room twice and bought new linens for you. I guarantee you'll love—" The moment I opened the door, my words stopped. The brand-new linens I had prepared were bunched up on the floor. The guest room was filled with strange belongings, and a half-human-sized teddy bear was sprawled on the bed. It was a blatant declaration of ownership. The sound of the front door opening rang out again. Soft laughter floated in. "Caleb, thank you for taking me to that restaurant. It was delicious." "My bad mood from being ignored by my classmates is totally cured by that dessert!" Caleb saw me and explained calmly. "Lydia had a falling out with her roommates and can't stay in the dorm. She's planning to move out." "She hasn't found a place yet, so she's staying in the guest room for now." I sneered. "Caleb, I told you a week ago that Chloe was coming to stay here." Caleb paused. The expression on his face at that moment said everything. He had forgotten. When I had asked him, his voice had been full of impatience: "Decide that yourself. Don't ask me about every little thing. It's annoying." Caleb pursed his lips, his voice dropping slightly. "Sorry..." He lifted the dessert bag in his hand, his tone softening. Like someone coaxing a cranky child: "The restaurant we went to today is the type you like. I'll take you there this weekend." I glanced at the logo on the bag. It was a restaurant I had repeatedly begged Caleb to take me to. He had always said he was too busy. I took the bag and tossed it into the trash. The breath Caleb was about to let out hitched again. Lydia stepped forward, her voice thin and airy. "Piper, it's all my fault. I can squeeze in with your friend. I don't mind." I let out a cold laugh, grabbed Lydia’s sheets and her teddy bear, and kicked them out into the hallway. Lydia froze, her eyes filling with tears. "Piper, I need those for tonight. What am I going to do now?" I glanced toward the master bedroom and smiled. "You can squeeze in with Caleb. I don't mind." Lydia’s face flushed. "Piper! If you don't want me here, just say so! Why humiliate me like this?" As if she had suffered a grand insult, her eyes turned red, and she ran off. Caleb frowned at me, though he didn't chase after her. "Piper, she’s just clumsy and a bit childish. She didn't mess up your things on purpose." "If you don't want her staying here, just say so. I can book a hotel for her. There’s no need to target her twice in a row." I stopped smiling. "This is our home. Shouldn't you consult me before bringing an outsider back?" Caleb’s frown deepened, as if I were being unreasonable. "Lydia is being isolated at school; she’s very low right now. I thought you'd at least have some empathy, but your first reaction is to calculate whether I consulted you." "Besides, it’s just for two days. Does a minor arrangement like that really need a formal consultation?" "It's like Chloe coming to stay—you don't need to consult me for that, either." The old me would have been impulsive enough to call a male friend to stay over that night just to see his reaction. But now, I just nodded calmly. "You're right. There really is no need to consult." Tit for tat. Then moving out of this city and breaking up with Caleb probably didn't need a consultation, either. 4 "Go book the hotel for Lydia then." I politely opened the door for Caleb and then laid out my suitcase to pack my clothes. He didn't seem satisfied with my reaction. He grabbed my wrist. "She’s an adult; she can book it herself." "But what about you? Why are you suddenly packing? Where are you going?" I shook him off. "Don't you have your own things to do? Why are you always obsessing over my movements?" Caleb paused. He likely remembered those were his own words to me. He fell silent for a moment. "I was wrong not to tell you about the trip. I'll report my movements to you from now on." "I have to go to the university tomorrow. Lydia’s conflict with her roommates escalated. The advisor wants to see the 'parents,' and her actual parents can't make it, so I'm going in their place." "Move your surgery to the day after tomorrow. I'll go with you." It seemed that in Caleb's list of priorities, I was still at the bottom. I spoke calmly. "No need. It's the same whether you're there or not." Caleb seemed to think I didn't understand the difference. He explained patiently: "I can help you contact specialists and interpret the reports. At the very least, I can wait in line for you." My second refusal was interrupted by his ringtone. Lydia’s tearful voice came through: "Caleb... it sounds like someone is picking the lock on my door... I'm scared..." Caleb’s face changed. He turned to leave in a hurry. I called out, "Wait." Caleb stopped, his expression impatient. "Piper, do you think I need to report to you before I go save someone? I need to go now." "This isn't the time for a tantrum. She might be in danger. Can you please stop targeting her?" He sighed. "I’ll be there for your surgery. But right now, I need you to understand what's urgent." Caleb clearly misunderstood. I just wanted to emphasize that I didn't need him there for the surgery. But he didn't wait for me to speak and rushed out.
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