She Regretted It When I Got Engaged

With the icy wind biting at my skin, she left me there, alone. The bitter northern wind howled, cutting through my jacket like it wasn’t even there. Yet, she expected me to walk home, barely dressed for the cold.

By the time I reached my apartment, my fingers were stiff, and my face stung from the relentless wind. But that wasn’t the worst of it. By the time I reached home, the distinct scent of someone else’s perfume still lingered in the air—one that certainly didn’t belong to me.

I opened the windows to let in the frigid, cleansing air and began packing my things. It took less than an hour to gather everything Odessa had left at my place: clothes, makeup, books she claimed she’d read someday but never did.

By the time I finished, I had delivered every last item next door to her apartment.

Her place, as always, was pristine and untouched. Not a trace of me remained there, just as it had been from the beginning. Odessa never allowed me to leave anything behind—no toothbrush, no sweatshirt, not even a stray pair of socks.

That is, except for one glaring inconsistency in her closet—a pair of men’s underwear that didn’t belong to me. She must have been in such a rush that she forgot to hide it.

It took me the rest of the day to restore my home to the way it had been five years ago. The couple’s items we bought but never used—trinkets meant to symbolize a love that never saw the light of day—I had them hauled away by the junk collector.

By the time I was finished, it felt like everything had been reset. Aside from the door I walked through, Odessa and I were right back where we started—at square one.

Just as I was about to call a contractor to undo the renovations we had made together, Odessa came home.

“Leif, why haven’t you been answering your phone or replying to my messages? I went out of my way to have dinner with you, and now I have to pick you up too?”

I glanced at her, noting the faint red marks under her collar. My voice was flat as I replied, “I’ve been busy. Cleaning up the place. Didn’t check my phone.”

She scanned the room, her expression quickly souring. “Busy with what? I cleaned up this place just yesterday.”

“Throwing out some things I don’t need.”

She frowned, her gaze landing on the cardboard boxes stacked near the door. “I told you not to buy that stuff in the first place. Now you’re wasting time throwing it out,” she grumbled, and without hesitation, she picked up one of the boxes and carried it outside. 

I followed her, watching as she casually discarded the items into the dumpster—things meant to commemorate five years of memories. They meant as little to her as I apparently did.

Later, at the restaurant, she ordered our usual seafood-boil and sides but added a dish I hated—milt or fish sperm.

My appetite evaporated instantly. This time, I decided not to hold back.

“Waiter,” I said calmly, “take this dish away and just bring the check, please.”

Odessa grabbed the plate and pulled it toward her. “Are you still upset because I didn’t visit you in the hospital? Leif, you fell down the mountain on your own. Don’t pin your clumsiness on me.”

I’d seen her care before, so her indifference now was impossible to ignore. The woman who once insisted on rushing me to the hospital for a paper cut couldn’t even be bothered to visit when I was admitted for three days. The woman who avoided milt because she knew I hated it was now ordering it. She had reverted to the person I met five years ago.

I gave her a faint smile, “You know I hate it. I feel like throwing up just seeing it.”

“Then don’t eat it!” she snapped. Her irritation didn’t bother me. If anything, it amused me. I leaned back in my chair, my smile fading as I began to speak. 

“Maybe it’s time we break—”

“Odessa!” he exclaimed with a grin. “After all these years, you still remember I love milt!”

Before I could finish, a man appeared at our table, interrupting me.  I looked up to meet the smug, condescending gaze of the man standing beside her. Odessa shifted in her seat to make room, and the man slid in beside her, sitting directly across from me.

“Let me introduce myself,” he said, smiling. “I’m Odessa’s boyfriend, Kirk Washington.”

I didn’t respond, and he reached over to pinch Odessa’s cheek affectionately.

“Why don’t you introduce me to your friend here?”

Odessa’s expression faltered. It was clear she hadn’t anticipated Kirk showing up. She avoided my eyes, her hands fidgeting with the napkin in her lap. I decided to make it easy for her. Smiling faintly, I answered for her. 

“I’m her neighbor, Leif Delgado. We’re just sharing a table since the place is packed.”

Odessa’s head snapped toward me, her eyes momentarily wide with shock before she exhaled in visible relief. Kirk didn’t seem to notice, leaning back with an easy grin.