1 “Director, I accept the offer. I’ll go to Africa.” “Noah, this is a top-secret medical research initiative. Once you sign, you’ll have no contact with anyone stateside for ten years. Your current identity will be erased. That’s an enormous price. Is your fiancée on board with this?” “I’ve already decided to break up with her. I don’t need her approval.” “I’m sorry to hear that. On the bright side, the Program has many outstanding women. You won't have to worry about your personal life. The final approval process will take seven days. After that, we’ll arrange your transport.” I hung up the phone and stood there in the middle of Sea-Tac Airport. Then, I canceled my flight to Cancun. Chloe and I were supposed to be on that flight. We were going to take our wedding photos. But on the way to the airport, she’d gotten a call, claimed it was a work emergency, and left me standing on the curb. I waited until the final boarding call. She never showed. And just now, I saw the Instagram post. It was from an account named "Ryan," someone who had added me a few weeks ago after a brief consultation. “First birthday back in the States. Thanks to Chloe for making it the best night of my life.” There were three photos. The first was Chloe and Ryan, smiling, in a hotel room. The second was a selfie of Ryan with a bright red lipstick print on his cheek. The third was Chloe, laughing, her face smeared with birthday cake. I stared at the screen and muttered, "So, Chloe. This was your work emergency." My relationship with Chloe hadn't started with love. It started with a debt. My parents died when I was six. In high school, I almost dropped out because I couldn't afford the fees. But at a local charity event, a Seattle-based philanthropist—a Mr. Chen—sponsored my education. I was a good student. I was valedictorian, got a full-ride scholarship to Harvard for pre-med, and went all the way through my Ph.D. After I started med school, I used my stipend and part-time job money to pay Mr. Chen back every last dollar. But I was still grateful. I flew to Seattle every year to visit him. Six years ago, he told me he had terminal cancer. His daughter, Chloe, had already lost her mother. Now she was about to lose her father. Mr. Chen, seeing me as a good, reliable man, made his dying wish: he wanted me to marry Chloe. I had just graduated. My whole life was planned out—a research fellowship, a chance to work abroad. But he laid on the guilt. "Without my family's help, Noah, you'd be a high school dropout. You need to show some gratitude." I couldn't argue. I did what he asked. I moved to Seattle, took a job as an ER attending at a Level I trauma center, and, as he’d requested, I started pursuing his daughter. We dated for five years. We were planning the wedding. Then, two weeks ago, Ryan walked into my ER. He was Chloe’s old flame, the one that got away. He'd charmed me into giving him my number. After that, his constant, public Instagram posts told me the rest of the story. From that day on, Chloe started coming home late, or not at all. She’d find any excuse to leave when we were together. I knew her heart was with him. If that’s what she wanted, I wouldn't stand in her way. 2 When I got home, I listed her custom-made, ten-thousand-dollar wedding gown on Poshmark. Since it was over, I had no use for it. I priced it to sell. It was gone in an hour. Chloe walked in just as the UPS driver was picking it up. She frowned. “Where’s that going?” “The fit was off,” I lied. “Sending it back for alterations.” I had made my decision. I wasn't going to let her use her family's "generosity" to blackmail me into staying. Until I was on that plane, I wouldn’t give her a hint I was leaving. After the driver left, she wrapped her arms around me. “I’m sorry about today. I just… I really couldn't get away.” Maybe she felt guilty. She looked up at me and leaned in to kiss me. All I could see was that lipstick print on Ryan’s cheek. I recoiled. “What’s wrong, Noah?” I looked away. “I just got back from the airport. I’m grimy.” She smiled. “I don’t mind.” She tried to kiss me again. I turned my head. She finally got the message. “Are you mad I missed the flight? Look, I promise, as soon as things calm down, we’ll rebook. This wedding is just as important to me as it is to you.” Her performance was almost convincing. It was almost laughable. There is no ‘we,’ Chloe. As I was trying to figure out what to say, her phone rang. I glanced at the screen. The contact was just “R.” I knew it was Ryan. She immediately took the call into the bedroom, pulling the door almost shut behind her. A minute later, she came out, grabbing her purse and keys. “An emergency at the office. I have to go.” I forced a smile. I nodded. She was at the door when I suddenly called her name. She turned, confused. I just smiled. “Be safe.” “I know, I know. I’ll text you.” The door clicked shut. And with it, the door to my own heart locked for good. Sure enough, a new post from Ryan popped up. The location tag was the Four Seasons. The caption: “I’ll never get enough of your perfume.” I suddenly remembered his visit to the ER. “Dr. Han, I just got back to town. I hooked up with a friend, but we didn’t use protection. Do you think she could get pregnant?” At the time, I’d thought it was a bizarre and inappropriate question, but I answered professionally. Now, I understood. The "friend" was Chloe. And Ryan hadn’t come for medical advice. He’d come to show me he'd won. I laughed out loud. He’d really misread the room. I didn't even want her. 3 With Chloe gone, I started clearing out the condo. This place wasn't ours. After Mr. Chen died, Chloe inherited everything, but she had no business sense. She got scammed, lost millions, and her properties were seized to cover the debt. I had qualified for a Seattle “high-level talent” housing grant, which gave me this subsidized luxury condo, rent-free. It was the only reason she wasn't homeless. Since I was leaving, the condo had to be returned. In the back of the closet, I found a box. It was full of the love letters I’d written her. She’d been a tough sell at first, looking down on my small-town background. I’d never dated, so I did what I saw in movies: I wrote her letters. Every day. When her company failed, I gave her every cent I had. The loan sharks came. I stood between her and them. I told them to put her debt in my name. “She owes you? Now I owe you,” I’d shouted at them. “If I can’t pay, you can have my life. But you will not touch her. You will not scare her. Or I’ll kill you.” That night, she’d finally softened. She kissed me. She’d whispered in my ear, “There was someone else in my heart. But I’m giving you his place now.” I hefted the box. It must have weighed twenty pounds. Hundreds of letters. I took the box down to the recycling dumpster. All that "love" was just paper. That evening, I was about to make dinner when Chloe came home, her arms full of groceries. Expensive seafood. “I met a new neighbor today!” she chirped. “He’s an old friend from high school. I invited him over for dinner. He’ll be here any minute.” She put on an apron. “I’m cooking tonight. You can relax.” I watched her walk into the kitchen. I had to laugh. In five years, she had never once cooked for me. She "hated the smell of oil." I did all the cooking, all the cleaning. I understood now. It wasn't the smell she hated. It was just me. The meal was a feast. King crab, salmon sashimi, grilled prawns, cioppino… twelve dishes. Eleven of them were seafood. The twelfth was a forgotten side salad. Just as the table was set, the doorbell rang. Chloe ran to open it, pulling a man inside. “Noah, I want you to meet Ryan. He’s my old friend, and our new neighbor!” Ryan smiled, extending a hand. “Noah. A pleasure. Chloe’s told me so much about you.” I smiled back. “I know him. He came to the hospital to see me.” Chloe’s smile froze. “He did? For what?” 4 Seeing her panic, I kept my voice light. “I’m a doctor, Chloe. He came for medical advice. Why are you so nervous?” She let out a breath and playfully punched my arm. “You scared me. Anyway, dinner’s ready!” At the table, Ryan was ecstatic. “Chloe, this is amazing! You even remembered I love seafood. You made all my favorites.” She was beaming. “If you like it, you should come over more often.” Ryan nodded, then looked at me. I was picking at the side salad. “What’s wrong, Noah? Not a fan of Chloe’s cooking?” Chloe immediately put a large prawn on my plate. “You have to try this. It’s a new recipe I learned.” I set my chopsticks down. My voice was quiet. “Chloe. Did you forget? I’m allergic to shellfish.” Her hand trembled. The prawn dropped. “You… you never told me.” “Did I have to?” My voice was hollow. She loved shrimp. So for five years, despite my allergy, I’d cooked it for her. Every time, my hands would break out in hives. The itching was so bad I couldn’t sleep. I’d have to sit up all night, holding ice packs. And every time she saw the rash, she’d just looked disgusted and told me to sleep on the couch so I wouldn't "infect" her. Five years. Dozens of reactions. She never once noticed. She looked guilty. “Well… since you’re allergic, I’ll… I’ll go make you something else.” I pushed my chair back. “Don’t bother. I’m not hungry. I ate at the airport.” Maybe out of guilt, Chloe insisted on cleaning the kitchen. The moment she was gone, Ryan dropped his act. He leaned back, smiling. “You saw my posts, I assume. You’re taking it well.” I sipped my tea. “I’m just surprised you have a taste for… leftovers.” His smile vanished. He leaned in. “Chloe and I were high school sweethearts. She was mine long before you. She could never love a peasant like you. I’m back. If you have any dignity, you’ll leave.” I wasn't about to tell him I was already leaving. “If you want me gone, have Chloe say it to my face.” His face darkened. He looked at my teacup. He picked it up. And threw the hot tea all over his own chest. The cup shattered. He screamed. Chloe burst out of the kitchen. “What happened?” Ryan pointed at me, his face a mask of pain. “Noah… I just told him we used to date, and he… he threw hot tea on me!” Chloe stormed over and shoved me, hard. “Are you crazy, Noah? That was high school! It’s over! We’re just friends! Why are you so insecure?” My voice was ice. “There’s a Wyze cam on top of the A/C unit. Should we roll the tape?”
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