After 49 Times, I Dumped Him

It was my parents who called to comfort me.

“Come back to Portland,” my mom pleaded. “Why are you putting yourself through this?”

They had asked me this so many times.

I slumped in my chair, staring out at the gray Seattle sky. Portland. Home to my family's hotel empire. The only reason I became a concept artist was to escape it all. I was supposed to join the family business right after graduation from RISD, but then I met Ralph.

I followed him to Seattle instead.

He came from a working-class family in Wisconsin and hated any mention of status. To protect his fragile ego, I hid my last name.

For five years, he thought I was just another girl from Idaho, trying to make it on her own. In those five years, our projects won awards for three years straight. Everyone called us the industry’s “golden couple.”

I used to think that one day, he’d be ready for all of me. That day never came.

I sighed. None of it mattered now. “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll come back.”

Relief flooded their voices. “Good girl,” my mom said. “We’ll book your flight. You can’t stay there and suffer.”

After hanging up, I heated up some leftovers and mindlessly scrolled through Instagram. Olivia’s latest post was at the top of my feed. It was a picture of her in skintight Lululemon, snuggled up to Ralph at Gas Works Park.

The caption read: Dragged a certain project director to watch the sunset with me. He was grumpy at first, but I promised him a ‘special’ reward tonight, and he gave in hehe.

I felt sick.

He wasn’t coming home tonight. Same old story. Thank God we never signed the papers. I was done.

The next morning, I packed my bags and went to the office to resign. My boss, Mr. Henderson, tried his best to convince me to stay. While we were talking, Ralph strolled in.

One look was all it took. I saw the mark on his neck. He reeked of Olivia’s sickly-sweet perfume. He looked like he’d just crawled out of bed after a long, satisfying night.

Funny. He used to hate it when I left marks on him, calling them “tacky” and “unprofessional.” So, even in our most passionate moments, I would just dig my nails into his back, carving all my fire where no one could see.

I guess it wasn’t the marks he hated, just who was leaving them.

Mr. Henderson sighed. “Perfect timing. Talk to your girlfriend. She’s quitting.”

“It’s not about him,” I said flatly.

“You’re quitting?” Ralph’s voice was sharp. He stared at me, his jaw tight. “I knew it. You’re still mad about yesterday.”

Mr. Henderson discreetly left the room. As the door clicked shut, Ralph stepped closer. “I told you, Olivia messed up. That’s why I canceled. Why are you being so dramatic?”

“I’m not mad,” I said, my voice even. “I’m just tired.”

He crossed his arms. “Then take a vacation. Quitting like this makes it look like you have a problem with Olivia. How is a new girl supposed to fit in if people are whispering?”

He forgot. All my vacation days had been burned on his canceled registrations. But sure, let’s worry about poor Olivia. The thought left me hollow.

My gaze drifted back to the bite mark on his neck. I said nothing. He noticed me looking and quickly pulled up his collar. “Scraped it at the gym. Don’t overthink it.”

Just another lame excuse I used to believe. I nodded, staying silent.

He let out a breath, a grin spreading across his face. He slung an arm around my shoulder. “That’s my girl. Don’t quit over this, okay? I’ll make it up to you. Dinner at Canlis tonight.”

I didn’t say a word. He took my silence as a yes.

“Ralph!” Olivia burst in without knocking.

He flinched, dropping his arm.

She gave a fake little laugh. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have a ZBrush question…”

Without another glance at me, Ralph walked over to her. She pressed herself against him, her chest brushing his arm, their heads close together as they whispered. She was in her own little world with him.

Then she linked her arm through his and strutted out. Just before the door closed, she turned, flashed me a smug smile, and slammed it shut.

Bang.

The office was silent.

And then—snap.

The Mobius strip bracelet on my wrist broke and fell to the floor. It was our first-anniversary gift, a symbol of our infinite, unbreakable love.

I stared at it for a beat, then quietly picked up the pieces. Ignoring the sting in my heart, I tossed them—and whatever we had left—straight into the recycling bin.