I Stopped Chasing Him After Eight Years

1: 1

My seventh acute gallbladder attack, and once again my boyfriend abandoned me and rushed out into the night.

He'd only tossed a strip of painkillers down by my feet.

"It's not your first attack. Take a couple of pills and get some rest."

"Dot ate something bad and's been throwing up all day. I have to go check on her."

Dot was a dog belonging to Hope Henson, his little protégée.

When he got home and saw me still curled up on the couch, his whole face was full of impatience.

"I told you ages ago to just get it removed. You wouldn't listen, and now when it flares up I'm the one who has to take care of you."

He handed me a glass of water without looking. The water in it had long gone cold.

All at once it just felt pointless.

"Samuel Delgado, let's break up."

He froze for a second, then laughed, reaching out carelessly to ruffle my hair.

"You'd never actually break up with me. Dot's sick and Hope can't handle her alone. Besides, is it really worth getting jealous over a dog?"

"All right, all right, don't say things you don't mean. Once you're feeling better in a couple of days, I'll take you to a movie."

A couple of days again.

Every time we fought before, he never had to lift a finger. Within two days at most, I'd fall back into my old habit of making peace with myself.

Our last fight was when I stumbled on his notes app. Page after page of it, all filled with Hope's cycle dates and everything she liked and couldn't eat.

The time before that, I twisted my ankle while skiing. By the time I looked up, he and Hope had gone shoulder to shoulder far down the slope, and I'd been left behind in the snow, not pulled out until late into the night.

He never felt an ounce of guilt, yet I forgave him again and again.

I used to dread breaking up. Even if it meant quietly tolerating this warped three-person arrangement, I'd play dumb and make room.

Now it just felt like three people crammed into a space meant for two.

This time, I chose to walk away.

1

Two days later, I was packing up to leave work when Samuel knocked on my office door.

"Come on, let's go see a movie."

I was about to refuse when Hope leaned in.

"Renee Fox, the new movie's got amazing reviews! Make Samuel treat us! And we're getting a hot drink and popcorn, no arguments!"

Samuel gave a helpless look. "Fine, fine, you little tyrant, whatever you say..."

Seeing me frozen where I stood, he frowned without thinking.

"Are you coming or not?"

Before I could react, he'd already pulled me into the car.

Hope settled into the front passenger seat like it was hers, buckled in, and turned back to give me an apologetic look.

"Renee, I'm used to lying down. You've got plenty of legroom back there, right?"

Then she went back to touching up her makeup in the mirror, now and then tugging at Samuel to ask if she looked good.

Thinking of all the little odds and ends that always turned up wedged in the seat cushions, I gave a bitter twitch of my lips.

Even Samuel's germaphobe streak, his refusal to tolerate any mess, had somehow been cured by Hope.

Curled up alone in the back, I watched them flirt and tease, and yes, the two of them really did suit each other better.

It was just, when had Samuel and I become like this?

Even I couldn't quite remember.

All I knew was that ever since Hope became his protégée, she'd started showing up in our lives now and then.

At first I even told Samuel to look out for her more.

Both of us far from home, we ought to understand each other.

But as time went on, I slowly started to feel something had gone off.

The car my mother bought me became his personal shuttle for driving Hope to and from work.

He loved sleeping in more than anything, yet he was willing to get up an hour early and go six miles out of his way just to pick Hope up for work.

At some point a little cartoon sticker even showed up on the passenger seat: "Hope's Spot."

He always brushed it off.

"She gets carsick, she's more comfortable up front. Surely you, of all people, aren't going to nitpick over even that?"

"Wasn't it you who told me to take care of her?"

"Fine, fine, next time I'll make her sit in the back!"

"Samuel, you know perfectly well that's not the kind of care I meant!"

Seeing me angry, he flew into a temper too.

"So I drove your car, big deal. We're practically talking about marriage. Do you really have to draw such sharp lines?"

"Besides, your health's bad, even your doctor said you should get more exercise. Walking to and from work is good for you. I'm doing it for your sake."

The self-righteous look on his face left me with nothing to say.

For the company's business competition, I'd pulled three all-nighters putting together my notes, and he secretly handed them to Hope.

On the day of the finals, Samuel deliberately slipped me sleeping pills.

Heartsick and furious, I ran to confront him, and he just waved it off.

"You're the one who said you'd been too stressed to sleep lately. I bought the pills out of kindness."

"I just wasn't paying attention and gave you too high a dose. It's only one competition. What's the fun in coming first every single time? What's the harm in letting her win once?"

In the end Hope won without lifting a finger, while I was disqualified for missing the exam and banned from competing for three years, my performance review dead last.

And the big project I'd been running all along fell into her hands too.

Seeing me sunk in gloom day after day, Samuel probably realized he'd gone a bit too far.

To make it up to me, for the first time he agreed that this year, over the holidays, he'd come back to Harbor City with me and talk marriage with my parents.

He knew exactly how to handle me.

One sentence, and all my grievance and bitterness were lightly smoothed away.

From that day on, all at once I was full of hope for life again.

I put together a gift list with a light heart, carefully picking out presents for him to give my parents.

But he and I, we might not make it to the holidays after all.