Eight years, six months, and twenty-five days. That’s how long Landon and I were together. And then, we weren’t. It ended because of his phone. He placed it face down on the table while we were having dinner. The buzz of a notification vibrated against the wood, sounding like a countdown to the end of us. I put down my fork. "Landon, I think we should break up." The man across from me, the man I’d loved for nearly a decade, let out a breath he looked like he’d been holding forever. He didn't even bother with a token "why?" "Okay," he said. Just like that. The charade was over. All because of a stupid, grand promise he’d made back in high school, in front of everyone at a pep rally. "Chloe," he'd yelled into the microphone, "I will never, ever be the one to break up with you." And he wasn't. He just waited for me to do it. 1 It took him less than ten minutes to pack his things. It was like he'd already rehearsed it in his head, a mental checklist of what was his and what could be left behind. What was worth taking, and what was just sentimental junk. Just like our relationship. The cracks had been showing for months. But because of that damn promise, he kept playing the part of the devoted partner. The perfect, twenty-four-seven boyfriend. He’d bring me flowers, rub my feet, tell me he loved me. His body could go through the motions. His heart? Not so much. I saw it in the little things. The way his lips would curl into a private smile when he was looking at his phone. The way he’d absentmindedly recommend a different brand of tampons at the store, saying, "This one has better leak protection," even though I'd used the same brand for years. He even started getting into cooking—fancy, complicated dishes I never liked. I watched him, piece by piece, un-love me. The final straw wasn't the phone. It was him forgetting the anniversary of my mom’s death. So, I said the words. And he agreed. So quickly it felt like a dream. A nightmare. 2 Less than an hour after he walked out, my friend sent me a link to an Instagram Reel. It was Landon, his arm wrapped around his new girlfriend, both of them laughing into the camera. The caption was a simple heart emoji. My hand tightened around my phone. Of course. It was her. The new intern from work. Jenna. The one who followed me around like a puppy, her voice always saccharine sweet. "Chloe, you're a lifesaver! I just don't get these spreadsheets, can you show me one more time?" "Don't you worry about a thing on your business trip, Chloe! I'll totally watch your cat!" "Oh my gosh, Chloe, just go! So your boyfriend has a little stomach bug and is in the hospital for a few days? He’s a big boy! I can totally bring him some soup, it's no problem at all!" I stared down at the cold, greasy takeout on my coffee table. A wave of nausea rolled through me, hot and acidic. I barely made it to the bathroom before I was retching, heaving until there was nothing left. Disgusting. They were both so disgusting. 3 I called in sick for three days. After Landon left, the vomiting didn't stop. At first, I thought it was just a visceral reaction to the double-barreled betrayal from my boyfriend and my protégé. But then, when I tried to clean up the kitchen, the smell of leftover salmon sent me running back to the toilet. A dark, cold dread settled in my stomach. I went to the drugstore downstairs and bought a pregnancy test. Two bright pink lines stared back at me, mocking me. The world went a little fuzzy at the edges. Isn't that hilarious? Just two weeks ago, Landon had pulled me into bed, his hands and mouth everywhere. We’d made love all night, a desperate, almost frantic kind of energy between us. "Chloe," he'd whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "Let's have a baby." We didn't use protection that time. What a coincidence. I squeezed my eyes shut. It took me three full days to even begin to process the fact that Landon was gone. My hand drifted to my stomach, a gesture I didn't even recognize. I'm sorry, little one. You weren't wanted. You were a tool. You were never meant to exist. 4 My friend Sarah called, trying to drag me out for drinks with the group. "Come on," she'd said. "You can't just rot in your apartment." She was right. Three days of marinating in my own misery was enough to suffocate anyone. Getting out sounded good. I just didn't expect him to be there. And I really didn't expect him to bring her. He cornered me near the bar, his new girlfriend hiding behind his arm like a frightened deer. "Chloe," he said, his voice low and firm. "What happened between us is in the past." He glanced back at Jenna, then looked at me again. "Jenna's not like you. She's… innocent. Her feelings get hurt easily. Don't pull any of your corporate power-play crap on her." I set my wine glass down on the counter. This was all just so, so pathetic. 5 The moment Landon said those words, a hush fell over our friends. They all just stared, their faces a mixture of pity and embarrassment for me. I looked at Landon, at this man I had spent almost a third of my life with, and felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. As if on cue, Jenna flinched and shrank further behind him. Landon’s jaw tightened, and he pulled her closer, shielding her. "This isn't the office, Chloe," he warned. "Don't treat her like one of your underlings." Hah. A small, sharp laugh escaped my lips. I picked up my jacket from the back of the chair. "I already paid the tab. You guys have fun." I turned to leave. "I'm out." As I walked past, I saw a flicker of something complicated in Landon’s eyes. Regret? Doubt? It was gone before I could be sure. My phone rang as I was waiting for my Uber. It was him. "Chloe, you're a reasonable person," he started, no preamble. "I hope what happened with us isn't going to affect Jenna's job. Don't make things hard for her at the company." My car pulled up to the curb. I hung up without a word. 6 Jenna was the new intern. Fresh out of college, always trying so hard, but messing things up in that way that only someone with zero real-world experience can. I was tough on her, sure, but I also felt for her. I'd see her crying quietly in a bathroom stall and it was like looking at a ghost of my younger self. So I took her under my wing. I bought her a decent blazer for a client meeting she was nervous about. Sometimes, when Landon and I had a dinner date, I’d bring her along just so she could have a nice meal. When did it change? When did they start building their own little world, right under my nose? Was it that time Landon was sick and I was out of town, and I asked her to drop off some cold medicine? Or was it during that big project launch, when he was hospitalized with that stomach bug and she volunteered to bring him "healthy, home-cooked meals" every single day? I never suspected a thing. I just thought their easy rapport, the way they finished each other’s sentences, was because they had similar tastes. Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore. 7 The alarm went off right on schedule. The adult world doesn't pause for heartbreak. Even if your life has imploded, you have a finite amount of time to grieve before you have to get up and go to work. Three days off was a luxury. Today, even if the building was on fire, I had to be there. I looked at my reflection. Dark, bruised circles hung under my eyes. But I put on my best power suit and did my makeup with extra care. Today was supposed to be my promotion party. Our director had quit a month ago, and she’d recommended me to the VP as her successor. My probation period was officially over yesterday. All signs pointed to the VP announcing my promotion today. People were already joking in the group chat about me buying the first round of drinks. We’d all planned to go to that new trendy tapas place tonight. My treat. But when I walked into the office, the vibe was… weird. People looked at me with a strange mix of pity and discomfort, then quickly looked away. I had a bad feeling. Just as I sat down at my desk, Jenna walked in. She was wearing a brand-new designer dress, looking like she owned the place. Two assistants followed her, their arms loaded with coffee carriers from the expensive place down the street. She clapped her hands together, a bright, fake smile on her face. "Good morning, everyone! You've all been working so hard, so tonight, drinks are on me! Don't make any plans!" The assistants started handing out the coffees. Everyone got one. Except, of course, for me. I already knew what was coming. Jenna finally seemed to notice me, her eyes widening in mock surprise. "Oh, Chloe! I didn't see you there! I'm so sorry, I thought you were still out sick, so I didn't get you one." She walked over, holding out her own cup. "Here, I haven't touched this. You can have mine, if you don't mind." I didn’t move to take it. She pressed the cup into my hand, and the second my fingers brushed against the cardboard sleeve, she let go. The cup exploded on the floor, splashing hot coffee all over my shoes and the hem of my pants. "Chloe, what the hell?" Before I could even speak, a hand shoved me back. Landon. He’d appeared out of nowhere, pulling Jenna back and inspecting her as if she were made of glass. "Are you okay? Did you get burned?" he asked, his voice thick with concern. "Oh my god, look! Chloe's hand is red!" one of my coworkers gasped. Landon's eyes darted to my hand, which was stinging from the splash. But before he could process it, Jenna tugged on his sleeve, her eyes welling up with perfectly formed tears. "I'm fine, Landon, really. Don't be mad at Chloe, she just… she didn't get a good grip on it. It was an accident…" she whispered, trailing off into a pathetic little sniffle. His gaze on me turned to ice. He turned back to Jenna, stroking her hair. "You're too nice. You're going to get taken advantage of if you keep being like this." Jenna beamed up at him, a tiny, triumphant smile playing on her lips. They walked away, their heads close together, whispering. I just stood there, watching them. So that's how it works. Love doesn't die. It just gets transferred. The same care, the same concern, the same protective instinct Landon had shown me for eight years… he just copied and pasted it onto someone new. 8 At five o'clock, I was sitting in the VP’s office. I’d been with this company for seven years. I was there when we were a five-person startup in a cramped office, and I helped build it into what it is today. I’ve left my blood, sweat, and tears on every floor of this building. That Director position? I had earned it. The VP, a man I respected, couldn't even look me in the eye. He rubbed his temples. "Chloe, I know. You're a cornerstone of this company. But you have to understand…" He paused, then sighed, as if giving up. "Knightley Tech just signed a massive contract with us. Massive. It's enough to set us up for the next five years. Chloe… you can't fight a tidal wave. Do you understand what I'm saying?" My eyes dropped to the floor. Knightley Tech. Landon’s family company. Of course. 9 My hands, resting in my lap, started to tremble. I knew the VP was in a tough spot. To save myself the humiliation of breaking down in front of him, I just nodded and walked out of his office. By now, the office was mostly empty. I locked myself in a bathroom stall and finally let the sobs come, ugly and silent. Landon’s break-up-by-proxy was one thing. I could handle that. But this… this was a whole new level of cruel. Having my promotion, the one thing I had worked myself to the bone for, handed to her on a silver platter because Landon had flexed his family’s muscle… that broke me. He knew. He knew how many all-nighters I’d pulled, how much I had sacrificed for that job. And in the end, he was the one who stuck the knife in my back. "Do you think Chloe will actually go to Jenna's party tonight?" I heard a voice say from the sink area. "No way! But man, if she does, it's gonna be a show," another voice laughed. "It’s so messed up, though. The whole thing is wild." "What's to be surprised about? She was the tech heir's girlfriend, so the company kissed her ass. Now he's bored, so the promotion goes to the new girl. That's how it works." The first voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you hear what he told Mark? He said he was bored. Said that touching her was like his left hand holding his right hand." "Oh, god, that's brutal. He said sleeping with her was like doing a chore? Ouch. Hahahaha!" CRACK. The sound of the stall door slamming open made them both jump. They turned, and their faces went pale when they saw me. "Ch-Chloe?" 10 I walked slowly to the sink and washed my hands, taking my time. I looked at their terrified reflections in the mirror. "What's wrong?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "Want to try your luck with Landon's hand, too?" They practically tripped over each other scrambling out of the bathroom. "Tch. Whatever," one of them muttered as they fled. I pulled a crumpled cigarette out of my purse and lit it, inhaling deeply. The smoke swirled and dissipated in front of my face. Landon hadn't changed at all. When he likes someone, he spoils them rotten. One day, he's warning me not to use my position to bully his precious Jenna. The next, he's using his family's corporate might to crush me for her. This world is so goddamn screwed up. 11 When I walked out of the building, a sleek, black Tesla was parked illegally at the curb. I knew that car. Landon was leaning against the driver's side door, smoking. He saw me and gestured for me to come over. I hesitated for a second, then walked toward him. Only when I got closer did I see her. Jenna. Sitting in the passenger seat. My seat. I remembered all the times she’d stood right where I was standing now, looking at me in that seat with wide, envious eyes. "Your boyfriend is so amazing, Chloe." "You have to watch out for all the snakes trying to steal him, Chloe! Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for you!" I flashed back to a few months ago. I saw Landon’s car parked downstairs and assumed he was surprising me. But then Jenna rushed past me like a blur, pulling open the passenger door and starting to climb in. I called her name, and she froze. For a split second, I saw panic in her eyes before she smoothed it over, closing the door. "Oh, Chloe! I thought you were already in there!" she'd said, linking her arm through mine. "I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner!" Landon's expression had been perfectly neutral. The flicker of suspicion I felt vanished as quickly as it came. God, I wasn't just blind. I was willfully stupid. Now, Jenna smiled at me from her perch. "Hey, Chloe." My eyes scanned the interior of the car. Everything was different. The custom gray leather seats we’d picked out together were gone, replaced with some hideous baby-pink version. The passenger seat had a fluffy, sequined pillow propped against it. The faded Polaroid from our first road trip that I’d tucked into the sun visor was gone. In its place on the dashboard was a pair of ceramic swans, their necks intertwined. And stuck to the glove compartment was a strip of photo-booth pictures of Landon and Jenna making kissy faces. Next to it, in bubbly pink vinyl letters, was a sticker: [Jenna’s Throne] Jenna saw me looking. A smug little smile played on her lips. "Sorry, Chloe," she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Old things just have to be tossed out, you know? They get worn out." She tilted her head. "Cute pictures, right?" And for the first time in days, I felt something other than pain or rage. I suddenly laughed.
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