The Moment We Broke Up

My car crashed, and I was rushed to the hospital. Patrick Reed came, signed a paper, and left.

He said there was a sudden family emergency, leaving me, with a broken leg, alone at the hospital.

Coming out of surgery, I saw his stepsister post on social media:

Just a sprained ankle, apparently family gets so worried they overreact.

The picture showed Patricks back as he made her pigs trotters soup, geotagged in the next city. She even directly forwarded it to our family and friends group chat, wanting to embarrass me, his official girlfriend.

I smiled, and replied magnanimously:

Marry the man who makes you soup; making him family is true kinship!

1.

I have no family. I accompanied Patrick for seven years in the big city, just the two of us. When he rushed to sign the surgery consent form, a warmth welled up in my chest. I felt like I finally had family protection too.

The next second, he mumbled, Something came up at home, and hurried away. He didnt even glance at me, let alone ask about my injuries. Before I could say anything, his figure had already vanished into the bustling hospital corridor.

Coming out of surgery, I was about to text him to say I was alright. The first thing I saw was Eleanors post, forwarded to the family and friends group chat. Patrick, wearing an apron, a doting expression on his face, was making pigs trotters soup. And her caption:

Just a sprained ankle, apparently family gets so worried they overreact.

I instinctively shifted my right leg, which was fractured and in a cast. The anesthesia was just wearing off, and it hurt terribly. I called Patrick, crying, and we started arguing.

He was extremely impatient, scolding me just like in all our previous arguments. Eleanor is my stepsister. Cant you stop being so dramatic?!

Why didnt I notice you were so delicate before? Its just a minor car accident, isnt it?

Eleanors playful laugh came through the phone. Patrick, were having a family meal. Dont pick up calls from outsiders!

My retort, Shes not even related to you by blood, never made it out before Patrick coldly hung up.

I cried until my chest ached and felt heavy. I immediately blocked Patricks number. I didnt want to bother my friends, so I hired a caregiver myself, enduring the curious whispers of other patients in the ward, and awkwardly stayed for over half a month.

The day before my discharge, Patrick asked a friend to message me. Darling, Ill pick you up tomorrow.

It was a sign of reconciliation. Patrick and I had been together for ten years, and he was always like this. During arguments, he would hurt me recklessly, then act as if nothing had happened and treat me well again. And I never held it against him, never brought up old scores. So he never cared if I was hurt by his repeated actions. After all, I would always smile, forgive him, and tolerate him.

But this time, I was completely disappointed in him. I thought he would become my family, desperately seeking a moment of warmth from him. But from beginning to end, I was just an outsider to him.

I unblocked Patrick, and simply replied with my discharge time and room number. Patrick, uncharacteristically, replied instantly. Ill be there on time tomorrow to pick you up, darling.

Darling, Ill bring you pigs trotters soup that I made myself, okay?

If it were before, I would have been touched by his quick reply, eager to playfully demand things from him. But this time, I wasnt interested in replying. I just turned off my phone and went to sleep.

2.

My discharge was scheduled for ten oclock. I sat on the hospital bed, waiting until past noon, but Patrick was nowhere to be seen. The nurse doing rounds looked surprised to find me still in the room. Ms. Davies, arent you being discharged today?

I forced a smile. Waiting for a friend to pick me up.

Unable to bear the gossiping looks of the other patients, I called Patrick. No one answered. I waited until past three in the afternoon, but Patrick still didnt show up. He hadnt sent any messages, and his phone was still unreachable.

A nurse walked over, looking somewhat embarrassed. Im sorry, Ms. Davies, a new patient is moving in.

I gave a wry smile. No worries, Ill leave now.

Just as I limped to the hospital entrance on crutches, Patrick rushed in. Im so sorry, darling, I just dropped Eleanor off at the company this morning, and rushed over from the next city

I cut him off with a light laugh. Its fine.

Patrick paused, then frowned, looking slightly annoyed. Youre angry. Are you mad that Im late? Or mad at Eleanor

Im not angry. I handed him the luggage bag I was carrying. Please take me home. Im a bit tired.

Claire. He didnt take the bag. Instead, he stared at me unhappily. Where did you learn to be so sarcastic?

You never used to be like this.

The luggage bag was heavy, and my arm trembled with exhaustion, so I placed it on the ground.

How am I? I stared at him with a smile in my eyes, stating frankly, Am I wrong to understand you?

I Patrick looked a bit embarrassed. He bent down to pick up the luggage bag. Never mind. Lets just go home.

I slowly got into the back seat on my crutches. Patrick turned to glare at me, looking displeased, but I quickly said, The back is more spacious. He pursed his lips and said nothing more. Perhaps tired from waiting for him so long, I vaguely leaned against the window and drifted off to sleep. Until Patricks phone rang.

3.

Patrick Reed! Where have you been again! Patrick was driving, and hed put the call on speaker. Eleanors petulant voice came through. He guiltily fumbled with the volume, quickly lowering it. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, and seeing that I was still closing mine, he let out a sigh of relief.

I came to pick Claire up from the hospital.

Guess where I am! Eleanor laughed, the whooshing sound of wind through the phone growing harsher. Patricks face instantly changed. He slammed on the brakes, making me nearly fall off the seat. He didnt spare me a glance, loudly demanding, Eleanor! Are you racing again?!

Have you forgotten you just sprained your ankle? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!

Where are you now?!

You know where I am. Eleanor airily dropped the phrase, then hung up with a laugh.

Patrick was about to turn the car around, but then his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. He suddenly remembered I was still sitting in the back.

Darling Patrick looked troubled. I knew what he wanted to say. It was, of course, that Eleanors racing was more dangerous. Compared to me, who had already been discharged, she needed Patrick more.

Before he could even string together his words, I, understanding his unspoken request, tapped the car door. Just let me out here.

Ill just take a taxi home.

Patrick stared at me, trying to find a trace of jealousy in my eyes, but his fingers honestly clicked open the door lock. I smiled. The soft ding-dong of the lock opening sounded like a farewell bell tolling in my heart.

I dragged my casted right leg out of the car. I watched the car, not hesitating for a second, turn around and speed off in the direction of the next city. He didnt even notice that where he dropped me off was a small road where taxis rarely passed.

I stood by the roadside, leaning on my crutches, waiting for a car. Marys older sister, my university senior and the orchestra conductor, called. The orchestra is looking for a violinist to study in Sydney. I recommended you. Over the past two years, whenever the orchestra chose someone to study abroad, she always thought of me first. But I couldnt let go of Patrick, always making excuses about being used to the easy life at home.

Before I could speak, she cut in, Dont tell me you cant bear to leave your boyfriend! This chance to go to Sydney is one of a kind!

Its not like youre going to outer space and will never see him again. If a year of long-distance cant be sustained, then you dont need a man like that!Ill introduce you to someone reliable!

I chuckled softly. Patrick and I were high school classmates; we started dating in our freshman year. Three years of high school, four years of university, and three years after graduation. Ten years. I had almost never been away from him.

On the day we graduated from university, Patrick accompanied me to sweep my parents grave and light incense. I murmured a prayer, I want to be with Patrick forever. I want a home. At that time, Patrick tightly clasped my hand, promising earnestly:

Darling, I am your family.

Until Patricks mother remarried, and his stepsister Eleanor appeared in our lives. I loved him for ten years. Yet at my most vulnerable, he abandoned me at the hospital, abandoned me on an deserted street. My efforts and expectations truly werent worth it.

I picked up where she left off. When do I leave?

Marys older sister was overjoyed. My dear, youve finally come to your senses! Grab this opportunity, and your worth will skyrocket!

Send me a video of you playing right now; Ill send it to the Sydney Orchestra!

I looked up at the darkening sky. There was still no sign of a taxi on the road. I laughed dryly. Marys older sister, could you please come pick me up first? My leg isnt very mobile.

4.

Marys older sister drove me home, cursing Patrick the entire way. As she left, she solemnly asked me, Claire, dont love him anymore. Hes not worth it.

I smiled and nodded. I know.

From the moment his heart so openly leaned towards Eleanor, I knew he wasnt worth it. But thinking of leaving him, I still found it hard to suppress the sourness rising in my throat. This trip to Sydney was probably fates way of giving me an opportunity. An opportunity to finally leave Patrick for good.

I practiced the violin for a while, then sat on the floor, packing my luggage. Before long, I started to doze off, unconsciously falling asleep among the piles of clothes. In my dream, someone seemed to sigh, picking me up and placing me on the bed. I squinted, seeing Patrick. His once neatly ironed shirt was now wrinkled, and he reeked of strong cigarette smoke. I couldnt help but cough, raising a hand to push him away.

You smell awful, I mumbled.

I was very sensitive to smoke. When Patrick first started working, he was under a lot of stress, but even if he smoked at the office, he would immediately shower after coming home before getting close to me. He had actually quit smoking last year because Eleanor said she didnt like it. I didnt know why he had started again today.

Patrick seemed displeased by my rejection. He forcefully leaned over, pinning me to the bed. Darling, dont be angry, he nuzzled his lips against my neck, the foul smoke continually invading my nostrils. I was worried something would happen to Eleanor, and my mom would blame me again.

I frowned, struggling to push him away. My accidentally injured right leg hit the foot of the bed, and the pain made me gasp.

Stop it, Patrick. I didnt want to hear him talk about Eleanor. Every time I heard her name, I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest.

Im sorry, darling, does your leg still hurt? Patrick was momentarily flustered. He stood up like a child who had made a mistake, helplessly watching me gently rub my right leg.

I shook my head. Im not angry, I just dont like the smell of smoke.

Then Ill go take a shower. Im sorry, darling. Patrick observed my expression. Seeing that I didnt seem truly angry, he let out a sigh of relief and walked towards the bathroom. Passing the clothes piled on the floor, he asked curiously, Why are you suddenly packing clothes?

Going for a performance out of town?

I said, No, Im moving out.

Patrick stopped short. What do you mean?

We need to cool down and think things through.

Patrick irritably turned to glare at me. Stop being dramatic, Claire. I havent slept all night, and Im exhausted!

Didnt you say you werent angry?

I tried my best to speak calmly. Did I make you go all night without sleep?

Im not being dramatic, and Im not angry. Patrick, Im serious.

Patrick was speechless. He stared at me blankly, as if I was a stranger to him. After a long pause, he laughed, exasperated.

Fine, fine, fine. Then he slammed the door and left.

5.

I knew what he was angry about. He probably never imagined that one day, I would be the one to proactively suggest a break, or leaving. He knew full well how much emotion I had invested in him. This was his capital for carelessly hurting me in this relationship.

But I no longer cared what he thought. This day was bound to come eventually, I silently hypnotized myself, rubbing my aching eyes. Outside the window, a faint sunlight began to rise. I was still a little sleepy, so I simply curled up in my blanket and drifted back to sleep.

I woke up again in the afternoon. I pushed open the bedroom door on my crutches and found Patrick and Eleanor sitting in the living room.

Sister Claire, youre awake. Eleanor stood up, her eyes red, instantly welling with tears.

Im so sorry, Sister Claire, I specifically came to apologize to you.

Its all my fault for being so impulsive and insisting on racing, making Patrick worry and having to leave you by the roadside

Patrick and I are really just family

I paid no attention, just limped past her to the refrigerator for water.

Claire! Eleanor specifically came to apologize to you Patrick said, his face cold.

If she apologizes, do I have to accept it? I turned my head to look at Patrick, my gaze cool and detached.

Even though I had done a lot of mental preparation, Patricks blatant favoritism still made me sad.

Did I ask her to apologize?

Or did I say she did anything wrong to me? I tried my best to remain calm, not letting my bitterness show.

Eleanor was already in tears, sobbing. Im sorry, Sister Claire, Im sorry its all my fault

I swear, Ill never contact Patrick again on my own

How ridiculous. Her voice sounded so wronged, yet the triumph in her eyes was unmistakable. I cut her off. Eleanor, I have never said a bad word about you, nor blamed you.

You dont need to use these little tricks on me.

Eleanors face went white, and she stammered, unable to speak. Patrick stepped forward, blocking Eleanor, Claire, youre going too far!

His tone was clearly tinged with panic. This was the first time I had been so unceremonious in confronting Eleanor in front of him. My change had clearly gone beyond his control.

Too far? Is it more too far than you abandoning your girlfriend, who just got into a car accident, at the hospital?

Honestly, I was a bit tired. Patrick, I think youve made your choice.

Lets break up.