After another cold war with my childhood sweetheart, I didn't go running to him. My friends all tried to talk me down. "He's just complicated, Willow. He says the opposite of what he means." "Difficult people need a patient lover." But I was just so tired. I didn't want to be the one to back down anymore. All those years of cold wars, of arguments and avoidance... they had worn me down so much that I couldn't even tell the difference anymore. Was he really just complicated, or did he just not love me? So, when he threatened me with a breakup again, I just said, "Fine. Let's break up." 1 Hearing me say that, Jerry visibly froze. But I just kept my head down, my voice steady. "I'll get my things packed and out of here as soon as I can. You can keep everything we bought together. As for the clothes you left at my place, please come get them when you can. Or I can have them couriered to you..." The only sound in the silent apartment was my own voice. Jerry's expression shifted from stormy to a cold, blank mask. He cut me off abruptly. "What about Pudding? How do we split him?" Pudding was the stray cat I'd found by the gate of our complex. I'd adopted him, paid for all his expenses. But he never warmed up to me. Eight times out of ten, he wouldn't let me hold him. He'd even scratched my wrist a few times. Jerry, on the other hand, was always indifferent to him, never paid him any mind. And yet, Pudding would actively rub against his legs, meowing and begging for attention. "You can have him, too," I said, letting out a long breath. No matter how much you love something, that kind of blatant favoritism will eventually break your heart. "Willow Morgan," Jerry said, his voice tight with suppressed anger, "you're the one who missed Valentine's Day. Why are you the one throwing a tantrum?" But wasn't he the one who said "break up" first? Maybe he'd forgotten. He threw those words around so often, after all. It was an effective threat, and he used it like a well-worn tool. "I told you, my flight was delayed. That's why I was late getting back." Jerry just sneered. "Excuses. Why couldn't you have just caught an earlier flight?" On this business trip, I had worked for over ten hours straight, compressing my schedule just to make it onto a flight that would get me home the same day. But Jerry wouldn't listen to that. He would find a hundred other reasons to blame me. So I fell silent, a profound sense of powerlessness washing over me. Jerry walked a few steps toward the door, then turned back, his tone icy. "I'm not coming back until you admit you were wrong." "We've already broken up," I said. But it was as if he hadn't heard me. He tilted his head, continuing his monologue. "I'll give you one more chance. It's not just about you being late." That was a first. Usually, he'd just slam the door and leave, even if his tone was still as hard as steel. "Think it over, and then come apologize to me." 2 I sat on the sofa for a long time before dragging my exhausted body up to clean the living room. I retrieved the gift from the trash can. I had run to a dozen different shops in another country to find this, picking it out with so much care. But the person it was for hadn't even glanced at it. He didn't cherish it. So, like the rest of the wreckage scattered across the floor, it was worthless. After cleaning the living room, I went to the bedroom to pack. This was Jerry's home. Every corner of it was filled with traces of me. The mugs we picked out together, the throw blanket, the matching sets of dishes... I only packed a few items of clothing and walked out with my suitcase. As I reached the door, a flash of yellow fur shot out in front of me. As if to block my path, Pudding flopped down in the middle of the living room and refused to move, his round eyes fixed on me. When I first found him, he was dirty and rail-thin, clearly malnourished. Now, his fur was fluffy and glossy. He was an undeniably handsome cat. I knelt down. In a rare exception, Pudding didn't shrink from my touch. I stroked his head. "I'm leaving now. He'll take care of you from now on." Pudding would probably like that. He always preferred Jerry anyway. Not like me, the person he never let get close. I carefully pried his claws from where they were hooked into my pant leg. Ignoring his frantic meows, I picked up my suitcase and left. 3 As I reached the main gate of the complex, I got a call. It was one of Jerry's friends, and his tone was accusatory. "Willow, what did you do to Jerry this time? He's at my bar, drinking himself stupid, and no one can stop him. You need to get over here and drag him home before he wrecks the place." I felt that familiar weariness creep back in. "I don't even know why he's angry. The moment I walked in the door, he flipped the table." There was a pause on the other end, then a note of surprise. "You don't know? He found out you had dinner with another guy. That guy even dropped you back at your hotel. Jerry's jealous, Willow." "He was a client," I explained. "It was a business dinner. He gave me a ride because it was pouring rain and I couldn't get a cab." So that was the real reason. Jerry was always like this. He'd get jealous and angry if I so much as spoke to another man for too long. I used to tell myself it was because he loved me, because he was possessive. But now, all I felt was exhaustion. "I can explain everything," I said into the phone, my voice soft. "I just don't understand one thing." "Why is he willing to tell all of you everything, but he's never willing to just ask me?" I once asked my best friend what she did when she and her boyfriend fought. She thought for a moment. "Depends on who's right and who's wrong. We wait until we've both cooled down, then we just talk it out." But Jerry would never do that. He kept everything bottled up inside. I never knew why he was angry. I always had to guess, or ask his friends. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't communicate with me. Why he'd rather vent to his friends than just ask me for the truth. Later, I learned a word for it: emotionally constipated. Jerry was the most emotionally constipated person I had ever met. He was sensitive and volatile. His only responses were to retreat and withdraw, using cold, cutting words to test me. Everyone said that people like him weren't cut out for relationships. Only I didn't believe them, and I charged ahead, full of passion. But now, I was lost. If a relationship always depends on one person making all the effort... can it really last? 4 I moved back into my own apartment. But even if we didn't see each other at home, we still had to see each other at work. We worked at the same research institute, just in different departments. During a project handoff, I saw a young woman trailing beside him. She had a fresh, innocent look about her—a graduate student who had just started this year. Her name was Chloe. Jerry's eyes lit up the moment he saw me. But I didn't look at him, just calmly went through the work procedures. And just like that, the warmth in his expression vanished, replaced by an icy chill. He walked right past me without a word, his gaze fixed straight ahead. I overheard Chloe's curious whisper. "Dr. Croft, how did you get that huge scar on your arm? It really startled me the first time I saw it." Someone else answered. "You're new, so you wouldn't know. Our Dr. Croft and Dr. Morgan from the next department... they're the couple. Total power couple. That scar is from an old earthquake drill. He was carrying her because she'd sprained her ankle. I heard that scar is why he couldn't become a pilot, so he switched majors and ended up here." Chloe's eyes filled with admiration. "That's so moving. They really are the perfect couple." The gossip mill instantly churned to life. From Jerry giving up his dream for me to him applying to the institute to be with me, everyone was praising his devotion and, by extension, expressing their envy of me. Our cold war of the past few days was dismissed as simple lovers' banter. "I bet you it's Dr. Morgan who apologizes first again." "Last time she bought us all bubble tea. What is it this time? I'm hoping for cupcakes." "No way, that's cheating. It's always Dr. Morgan who gives in first. If you bet on him apologizing, then I'll take that bet." I stood in the corner, listening silently to their laughter. But this time, they were all wrong. "Jerry and I have broken up," I said, my voice cutting through the noise. "Please don't bring it up again." My appearance brought the conversation to a screeching halt. People exchanged awkward glances and quickly dispersed. The truth was, our relationship was nowhere near as perfect as it looked from the outside. The endless cold wars and arguments had left it covered in invisible wounds, fragile and on the verge of collapse. I really wanted to know, Jerry... now that I'm not fixing things, now that I'm not trying to save us... will you even notice? Will you try to get me back? This time, will you be the one to apologize to me first? 5 For an entire month, Jerry and I were like strangers. It was a standoff. Neither of us was willing to be the first to back down. In the meantime, Chloe and Jerry were getting closer. They had lunch together, left work together. During a weekend team-building hike, Jerry even chose to be in her group. It was Chloe, ironically, who seemed hesitant. "Isn't this... a little inappropriate? What about Dr. Morgan?" Jerry's tone was dismissive. "We broke up, didn't we? Why should I care what she does?" He didn't lower his voice; everyone around us could hear. "Besides, she loves having dinner with other men so much. I'm sure hiking is no different." Instantly, the way people looked at me changed. I heard whispers. "She has a great boyfriend like Dr. Croft and she doesn't appreciate him. Flirting with other guys... no wonder he broke up with her." The gossiping group only scattered when they saw me approaching. On the way up the mountain, Chloe twisted her ankle. Without a second thought, Jerry crouched down and lifted her onto his back. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice filled with guilt. "Now we're going to be last because of me." Jerry's voice was gentle. "It's fine. We were just here to relax anyway. The ranking doesn't matter." I was trailing behind them. There was an odd number of people on the trip, and everyone else had already paired up. Not wanting to break anyone up, I just went as a group of one. My stamina had never been great, and I was already breathing heavily. The atmosphere between the two of them up ahead was peaceful and harmonious. I even heard someone praise Jerry for being so dependable. 6 Jerry was, indeed, a very dependable person. He was polite and gentlemanly to everyone. Except me. In college, he was our class president. During an earthquake drill, everyone scrambled for the exits. He was the only one who ran against the crowd, back towards me, to carry me out because I had sprained my ankle a few days prior. The entire university buzzed about it. Everyone envied my luck. But what they didn't know was that Jerry was scolding me the entire time. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you are? If you've sprained your ankle, why don't you just stay home? Now you've dragged our whole class down to last place again. Willow, you're completely useless." I wanted to tell him that I had already gotten permission from the professor to skip the drill. But hearing his harsh words, I didn't want to argue and make him angrier. Later, his friends told me he was just being contrary. That he was actually worried about my ankle and wanted me to rest at home. He had even gone to find a traditional medicine doctor to get a special ointment for me. "He makes a hundred bucks a day at his part-time job, but one of those patches costs eighty. He bought you two weeks' worth without even hesitating." My best friend was envious. "He's just awkward, but he really loves you. That whole broody, secretly-caring thing is so romantic." But now, watching Jerry comfort Chloe, I finally realized something. It wasn't that he was incapable of gentleness. He just wasn't gentle with me. I could feel his love through the words of others, but never from his own actions. He always spoke to me with venom, always gave me the cold shoulder. He called me stupid, called me frivolous. He cut up a scarf someone else had given me, smashed a gaming console a colleague had lent me. I told myself he was just jealous, that he just cared too much. So, after being pushed away time and time again, after every refusal to communicate, I would soothe my own hurt feelings, and then I would be the one to be warm and proactive, to apologize tirelessly, to be the first to give in. But passion needs to be reciprocated. I wasn't invincible in this relationship. I could feel hurt and sad, too. The way he acted when he was being "difficult" and the way he acted when he didn't love me were so similar. I was too heartbroken to tell the difference anymore. Was Jerry really just complicated, or had he just stopped loving me?
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