He Captures Scenery, I Chase Aurora

Rowan and I lived together for three years. All that time, a framed photo of a snow-capped mountain stayed on his desk. When I asked to replace it with a New Years photo of us, he smiled and refused, saying the composition was perfect.

While cleaning one afternoon, sunlight hit the glass just right. Thats when I noticed hera tiny girl in a red parka, standing on a trail halfway up the slope. She was small, easy to miss unless you looked closely, yet perfectly in focus, as if the photographer had centered her while pretending to capture the landscape.

Scrolling through Rowans Instagram from three years ago, I found four posts that month. Every one was a landscapeand every one hid that same flash of red.

When he got home late, I handed him the frame. Who is she? I asked. He wiped dust from the corner, set it back in place, and said, Just some random tourist. His finger lingered on the edge, brushing it like he was touching a cheek.

In three years, he had no photos of us on his phone. Yet that red figure had been his wallpaper the entire time.

I laughed softly and looked away. The next day, I accepted a company transfer. There was no place for me in his view, and I was done being part of the backdrop.

"Change the sheets in the master bedroom to a fresh set. Riley is moving in for a few days this afternoon."

Rowan dropped that bomb without even looking up as he kicked off his dress shoes in the entryway.

I was sitting on the couch, double-checking the electronic receipt for breaking our apartment lease.

My finger froze over the screen.

"Who is Riley?"

"A junior from my college. She just moved back to the States and hasn't secured an apartment yet."

Rowan tossed his leather briefcase onto the coffee table and loosened his tie.

"Two days ago, you swore the girl in the mountain photo was a complete stranger."

His fingers froze on his collar button.

Two seconds passed before he furrowed his brows.

"You stalked my old posts?"

"Your profile is public. I scrolled back three years. It took quite a bit of effort."

He let out a heavy sigh and walked over, sitting down next to me.

"Rowan. You and I have lived together for three years. And now you're letting a girl you secretly photographed for five years move into our home?"

"What do you mean, secretly photographed? Don't make it sound so creepy."

His tone carried a sharp edge of impatience.

"The outdoor club went to Alaska together. She happened to be standing in front of me, so I snapped a picture. That's it."

"Then why didn't you happen to snap a picture of a guy?"

"Do you really have to be this petty?"

Rowan stood up, looking down at me with absolute exhaustion.

"She is a young girl who just moved back to the country. She has no family here. What is so wrong with me looking out for her as an older alumni?"

"There are plenty of hotels."

"Do you have any idea how expensive hotels are in this city? She just got her first job. She doesn't have that kind of cash."

"Our apartment isn't a homeless shelter."

He stared at me for a long, heavy moment before letting out a cold scoff.

"Sloane, you never used to be this narrow-minded."

"I used to be stupid."

"Whatever. I'm not doing this with you."

Rowan turned his back and walked straight toward the master bedroom.

"I already promised her she could stay. She'll be here with her luggage this afternoon. Hurry up and change those sheets."

"I'm not doing it."

"If you won't, I will."

He violently yanked open the closet door and pulled out a brand-new four-piece bedding set.

I sat on the couch and watched him work.

In three years of living together, the man didn't even know how to turn on the washing machine.

Now, for another woman, he was clumsily wrestling with a pillowcase.

At three in the afternoon, the doorbell rang.

Rowan practically jogged to open it.

"Rowan!"

A crisp, sweet voice floated into the apartment.

A girl in a khaki trench coat stepped inside, dragging two massive silver suitcases behind her.

She spotted me and paused.

"You must be Sloane."

She smiled sweetly, her eyes curving into perfect little crescents.

"Rowan talks about you all the time. He says you're amazing at taking care of people."

"He never talks about you."

I leaned against the wall, keeping my voice completely flat.

Riley's smile froze. She cast a pitiful, wronged look at Rowan.

Rowan immediately shot me a lethal glare.

"Can you just shut your mouth for one second?"

He turned back to Riley, his voice instantly softening into melted butter.

"Ignore her. She's just in a bad mood today. Are those bags heavy? Let me take them into the room for you."

"Thank you, Rowan."

Riley followed him into the master bedroom.

That was the room we had slept in for three years.

I had been sleeping in the guest room for the past week. Rowan claimed his neck was acting up and said the mattress in the master bedroom was softer.

Being the understanding girlfriend, I had voluntarily moved to the guest bed to give him space.

Looking at it now, he was just clearing the room for her.

Ten minutes later, Riley walked out of the bedroom.

She strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the shelves.

"Rowan, why don't you have any ice water in here?"

"Sloane has a weak stomach. We only keep hot water in the house."

Rowan answered from the living room.

Riley pulled a mug from the rack and filled it halfway from the hot water dispenser.

It was my mug.

I had commissioned that mug from a local pottery studio. My initials were carved right into the bottom.

I walked over and snatched the cup straight out of her hand.

A splash of hot water hit the cuff of her trench coat.

"Ah!"

She let out a sharp shriek and stumbled backward.

Rowan charged into the kitchen like a bull and shoved me hard out of the way.

"Are you out of your mind!"

He grabbed a handful of paper towels and frantically dabbed at Riley's sleeve.

"Did you get burned?"

"No, the water just spilled."

Riley bit her lower lip. Her eyes instantly welled up with red-rimmed tears.

"Does Sloane hate that I'm here? If it's too much trouble, I can leave right now."

She turned, taking a dramatic step toward the bedroom to get her bags.

Rowan reached out and grabbed her wrist tight.

"Where are you going? This is my apartment. I decide who gets to stay."

He slowly turned his head, fixing me with a look of pure disgust.

"It's just a cheap mug. Would it kill you to let her use it?"

"I don't know if it'll kill her, but I find it disgusting."

I tossed the mug directly into the stainless steel trash can.

The sound of shattering ceramic echoed violently in the kitchen.

Rowan's face went completely rigid.

"Sloane, don't push your luck."

"What luck? The luck of putting up with you?"

I stared back at him with absolute ice.

"Rowan, you can let her sleep in the master bedroom. But if she touches a single thing that belongs to me, I will smash it into pieces."

"You are completely unreasonable!"

"You'll find out exactly how unreasonable I can be very soon."

Over the next two days, Rowan and Riley turned the apartment into their own personal playground.

When I walked out of the guest room in the mornings, the bathroom was perpetually occupied.

I could hear Riley humming a pop song over the sound of the running shower.

I stood outside that door for a solid thirty minutes.

Rowan walked out of the kitchen carrying two plates of perfectly fried eggs. He gave me a sideways glance.

"What's the rush? Riley takes her time washing her hair. Could you not just wake up earlier?"

"It is eight in the morning. I leave for work at eight-thirty."

"Then go use the public restroom down the street."

He said it so casually. Like asking his girlfriend to use a public toilet was the most normal thing in the world.

I stared at those beautifully golden eggs on his plates.

In three years of dating, the man had never cooked breakfast for me once.

He used to tell me the grease from cooking was bad for my skin and insisted I learn to cook instead.

I believed his garbage. I woke up thirty minutes early every single day to make him oatmeal and coffee.

It turned out he wasn't incapable of cooking.

He just didn't want to cook for me.

The bathroom door finally unlatched. Riley stepped out wrapped in a white towel.

Water dripped from the ends of her hair, leaving puddles on the hardwood floor.

"Oh, sorry Sloane. I didn't know you were in such a rush."

She smiled without a single shred of actual guilt.

"It's fine. Take as long as you want from now on."

I walked into the bathroom and clicked the lock shut.

On the vanity, my expensive face wash had been squeezed flat, the cap left wide open.

My favorite pink towel was currently draped over the dripping showerhead.

I ripped the towel down and threw it straight into the trash can.

Then I turned around, left the apartment, and went to work.

I deliberately stayed at the office late that night.

Our lease didn't expire for another two months, and I needed time to secure my next move.

When I pushed open the front door, the living room lights were off.

The only illumination came from the flickering glow of the television screen.

On the couch, Rowan and Riley were huddled together, watching a horror movie.

Riley had her face buried in Rowan's shoulder. Her arms were wrapped tightly around a throw pillow.

It was the pillow I had hand-stitched. It had my and Rowan's initials intertwined in the center.

"Rowan, I'm scared."

"Don't be. It's all fake."

Rowan patted her back gently. His voice was incredibly soft.

I stood in the entryway feeling like a complete stranger intruding on someone else's happy home.

When he was chasing me back in the day, he took me to a horror movie too.

I had been terrified and grabbed his sleeve.

He had yanked his arm away in disgust and told me the special effects looked like cheap garbage.

I used to think he was just an unromantic, pragmatic guy.

It turned out even pragmatic guys had a deeply tender side. It just depended entirely on who was sitting next to them.

I reached over and flicked on the main entryway light.

The harsh brightness shattered their intimate little bubble instantly.

Riley bounced off Rowan's shoulder like she had been electrocuted.

Rowan scowled at me.

"Could you announce yourself when you walk in? You almost gave us a heart attack."

"This is my home. Is turning on a light a crime now?"

I kicked off my heels and walked straight up to the couch.

I snatched the embroidered pillow right out of Riley's arms.

"Sloane, what are you doing."

Riley looked up at me with wide, pitiful eyes.

"This is mine."

"It's just a pillow. What's the big deal if I hold it for a bit?"

"I don't share."

I hugged the pillow to my chest and walked toward the guest room.

Rowan's suppressed anger echoed behind me.

"Sloane, why are you acting so territorial lately? You're acting like a paranoid hoarder."

"It's my stuff. I'll hoard it however I want."

I didn't even look back as I slammed the bedroom door shut.

The next day was Saturday.

I spent the morning packing up the clothes and books I rarely used.

I heard the sound of someone rummaging through drawers outside.

I opened my door and saw Riley digging through the master bedroom's nightstand.

It was a drawer Rowan and I used to share. It held all our important documents and valuables.

"What are you looking for?"

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

She jumped, startled. In her hand was a red velvet box.

It was the tie clip I had bought just last month.

I was planning to give it to Rowan for his thirtieth birthday.

It cost me half a month's salary to have it custom engraved with an initial.

"Rowan said he couldn't find his favorite tie clip, so he asked me to look for it."

She confidently flipped the box open.

"Wow, this is gorgeous. It even has an R engraved on it."

R was the first letter of Rowan's name.

It was also the first letter of Riley's.

"Give it back."

I held out my hand.

Riley pulled the box tight to her chest.

"Sloane, this belongs to Rowan, doesn't it? Why are you trying to take it?"

"I bought it."

Rowan walked through the front door right at that moment, carrying a bag of groceries.

Hearing the argument, he dropped the plastic bags and walked over.

"What's going on?"

"Rowan, Sloane is trying to steal your tie clip."

Riley held the box out to him, her eyes instantly going red again.

Rowan looked at the silver clip inside the velvet cushion and paused.

"You bought this for me?"

"Yes."

"Then it belongs to me, doesn't it?"

He snatched the box from her hand with absolute entitlement and clipped it directly onto the collar of Riley's parka.

"Riley has a big job interview today. I'm letting her borrow it for good luck."

I stared at that elegant, custom-made silver clip sitting awkwardly on her bright red outdoor jacket.

"Rowan, that is a men's tie clip."

"Who cares about gender rules? As long as it works."

He waved me off like a minor annoyance.

"Besides, if you're so heartbroken over it, just go buy another one."

"Just buy another one?"

"It's really not a big deal. Do you have to act this petty over everything?"

I looked at his arrogant, deeply entitled face, and a laugh bubbled up in my throat.

"You're right. It's not a big deal at all."

I turned around, walked back into the guest room, and locked the door.

"Are you having another mental breakdown!"

Rowan smacked his palm violently against the wood.

Friday night was my company's annual appreciation gala.

As the lead project manager, my attendance was mandatory.

Rowan was the representative for our partner firm, so he was naturally on the guest list.

According to company tradition, semi-public couples like us were supposed to walk the red carpet and sign in together.

I had confirmed the schedule with him a whole week in advance.

At five in the afternoon, I finished putting on my evening gown at home and gave him a call.

"Are you on your way?"

"Not yet. Riley has a bit of an emergency."

The background noise on his end was chaotic. It sounded like a shopping mall.

"What emergency could possibly be more important than my project's gala?"

"She passed her interview. She said she needs a professional suit, so I'm helping her pick one out."

"Rowan, the gala starts at six-thirty. This is the celebration dinner for the project I led."

"I know, I know, we'll make it in time. You go ahead. I'll be there a little late."

He hung up immediately.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had spent two hours perfecting my makeup. My face was completely devoid of emotion as I picked up my clutch and ordered an Uber.

I signed the guestbook alone. I walked to the head table alone.

Seeing me flying solo, my coworkers immediately started teasing me.

"Sloane, where's Mr. Prince Charming? Didn't he want to play your bodyguard tonight?"

"He had some things to take care of. He'll be here soon."

I held my champagne flute, flashing a flawless, bulletproof smile.

At seven-thirty, the banquet was already halfway over.

The heavy double doors of the ballroom suddenly pushed open.

Rowan walked in wearing a perfectly tailored black suit.

And tucked smoothly into the crook of his arm was a woman in a stunning red evening gown.

It was Riley.

Every single pair of eyes in the room instantly locked onto them.

My knuckles turned white around the stem of my champagne glass.

That red dress was the exact one I had seen in a magazine last month. I had told Rowan how much I loved it.

I hadn't bought it because the price tag was absurd.

Now, it was draped over Riley's body.

And it fit her sickeningly well.

Rowan led Riley straight to our table.

"Sorry we're late. Traffic was a nightmare."

He casually pulled out the empty chair next to me and offered it to Riley.

The color drained from my coworkers' faces. Everyone exchanged incredibly awkward glances.

"And this is?"

The CEO cleared his throat, asking the question everyone was thinking.

"This is my college junior, Riley. She just moved back to the States. I brought her out to experience the industry a bit."

Rowan introduced her with absolute confidence.

Riley stood up and raised her wine glass.

"Hi everyone, I'm Riley. Rowan talks about you all the time. Thank you for taking such good care of him. Cheers."

She spoke with the supreme confidence of a hostess welcoming guests into her own home.

Paige, my assistant sitting on my other side, couldn't take the disrespect. She muttered under her breath.

"The only one taking care of Rowan is our Sloane."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried perfectly across the table.

Riley's face froze. She looked at Rowan with big, wounded eyes.

Rowan frowned deeply, shooting Paige a freezing glare.

"The partnership between our two companies is built on professional merit, not on who takes care of who."

That sentence dropped the temperature at the table below freezing.

The CEO scrambled to save the mood.

"Right, right, merit is everything! Come on, let's cut the celebration cake!"

A massive three-tiered cake was wheeled out onto the floor.

It was covered in little fondant figures representing everyone on our project team.

Sitting at the very top of the highest tier was my figure.

Because I was the absolute backbone of this project.

The event host handed me a silver knife tied with a red ribbon, gesturing for me to make the first cut.

I started to stand up, but Rowan suddenly clamped a heavy hand over mine.

"Let Riley cut it."

The entire ballroom went so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

I turned my head, staring at him in utter disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

"Riley just landed a great job today. We should celebrate her too. Let her borrow some of your good luck."

He snatched the knife right out of the host's hand and shoved it directly into Riley's palm.

Riley gave a pathetic, fake little pushback.

"I shouldn't do this. This is Sloane's big night."

"What's the big deal? It's just a slice of cake. Sloane doesn't care about stuff like this."

Rowan gave her a gentle push on the back.

Riley smiled shyly and walked right up to the cake, gripping the silver knife.

She brought the blade down hard. The very first slice went straight through the top tier, cutting right across my fondant figure.

The top half of my little sugar clone tumbled off the cake and crashed onto the silver tray.

Scattered, hesitant applause echoed around the room. Every single person was looking at me with intense, suffocating pity.

That pity humiliated me worse than a slap to the face.

I stood frozen, watching Rowan gaze at Riley with absolute adoration as she sliced a cake that wasn't hers.

Somewhere deep inside my chest, the last remaining pillar holding my love for this man completely collapsed.

I set my champagne glass down on the table with a soft click.

"Sloane, are you okay?" Paige tugged anxiously at the hem of my dress.

"I'm fine."

I grabbed my shawl off the back of the chair.

"Since Rowan loves cutting cakes so much, I'll leave you all to it. My stomach is acting up. I'm heading home."

"Sloane!"

Rowan snapped at my back, a harsh warning in his tone.

"Everyone is watching. Are you seriously going to throw a tantrum and embarrass us all?"

I stopped walking and turned around to look at him.

"The only one humiliated here is me."

I turned back on my heels and walked out of the ballroom without looking back once.

Tomorrow was our four-year anniversary.

It was also the day I had scheduled my flight out of the city.

The company had arranged my transfer to the Seattle branch, and I accepted it without a single second of hesitation.

It worked out perfectly. I didn't even have to hunt for a new apartment.

The next morning, for the first time in days, Rowan wasn't lingering in the master bedroom with Riley.

He was sitting on the living room couch, staring at a cold cup of coffee.

When he saw me wheeling two massive suitcases out of the guest room, he blinked in surprise.

"What is all this?"

"The company is sending me on a business trip to the branch office."

I kept my voice completely flat. No anger. No emotion.

"You need this much stuff for a trip? Didn't you ship boxes of your books out yesterday?"

"The conditions at the branch are rough. I'm bringing the things I'm used to."

He frowned, clearly unsettled by my unnatural calm.

"Are you still throwing a fit over last night?"

"No."

"Sloane, you are way too sensitive. Riley is just a young girl. What is so wrong with me looking out for her? We're about to get married, why is your capacity for tolerance so pathetic?"

Married.

Hearing that word now felt like a sick joke.

"Today is our four-year anniversary."

I reminded him.

He slapped his thigh, adopting a look of sudden realization.

"Right, right, I remember. I'm taking a half-day off this afternoon. I'll go with you to buy that diamond ring you've been looking at, and then we'll get a nice steak dinner."

"Okay."

I agreed instantly.

My lack of a fight made him uncomfortable. He coughed awkwardly.

"Just leave the bags here for now. I'll drive you to the airport this afternoon."

At noon, I emptied the very last drawer in the guest room.

There wasn't a single trace left in that room to prove I had ever existed.

I had even peeled off every Polaroid photo I ever taped to the walls.

All that remained was a slightly yellowing blank wall.

I sat on the bare mattress, waiting for a text from Rowan.

At one-thirty, my phone rang.

Through the speaker, I heard the screech of a cat and a woman's hysterical sobbing.

"Sloane, I'm so sorry, I can't make it this afternoon."

"What happened?"

"Riley was feeding a stray cat downstairs and it scratched her deep. She's bleeding everywhere. I'm driving her to the ER for rabies shots."

"She can get rabies shots at any urgent care clinic in five minutes."

"She's terrified! She's crying so hard she can barely walk! How am I supposed to just leave her alone?"

He spoke with frantic impatience, acting like I was being entirely unreasonable.

"But you promised you would spend the afternoon with me."

"Can't we buy the ring tomorrow? What difference does a day make for an anniversary? This is a medical emergency. Can you not grasp basic priorities?"

I said nothing.

It was always exactly like this.

Her getting a paper cut was an emergency. Her being scared of the dark was an emergency. Her feeding a cat was an emergency.

My expectations, my waiting, were always met with "next time" or "some other day."

"Go ahead."

I said softly.

"Don't be mad, okay? I'll order some nice takeout tonight to make it up to you."

He rushed to hang up the phone.

I stared at the black screen.

I wasn't angry. I didn't shed a single tear.

All I felt was an overwhelming, unprecedented sense of relief.

I walked out to the living room and picked up the photo frame he kept in the most prominent spot by the door.

The photo of the snow-capped mountain.

I popped the cardboard backing off and pulled the glossy print out.

I grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer.

Carefully, meticulously, I cut the tiny girl in the red parka right out of the snowy trail.

It left a jagged, ugly hole right in the center of the picture.

I put the mutilated landscape back into the frame and placed it exactly where I found it.

Then, I walked into the bathroom.

I took that tiny red cutout, grabbed a piece of clear packing tape, and plastered it directly over the power switch of Rowan's electric razor.

When that was done, I walked to the coffee table.

I laid down the printed lease termination agreement and the spare apartment key right in the center of the glass.

Next to the key, I placed the engagement ring he had bought online for me years ago.

A thirty-dollar cubic zirconia piece of junk.

I grabbed the handles of my two suitcases and pulled open the front door.

I took one last look at the place I had lived in for three years.

Sunlight filtered through the screen door on the balcony. Tiny specks of dust floated in the warm air.

This used to be my home.

Now, it was just a cheap motel.

The lock clicked shut with a sharp snap, locking the past away forever.

The Uber driver helped me heave my bags into the trunk.

"Where to, miss?"

"To the airport."