The Day He Abandoned Our Home Deposit

Seven years together, and on the day we were supposed to put down the deposit for our future home, Ethan didn't show.

He sent a message: Chloe had a small car accident. She's really shaken up, so I need to stay with her at the hospital.

Let's sign for the apartment next week. I'm going to marry you anyway, what's a few extra days?

"Don't overthink it. She's all alone in a new city; I just see her as a sister."

I stared at the bank card in my hand, calmly typed one word: "Okay."

Then, I turned around and bought the apartment outright, putting only my name on the title.

At the same time, Chloe posted on Instagram:

"When I was most scared, my superhero appeared out of nowhere. The hospital smells like disinfectant, but his embrace feels so safe."

The post included a photo of Ethan's back, covering her with his jacket in the emergency room hallway.

I instinctively liked the post, then commented: "Hold him tight. He's all yours now."

"Ashley, are you crazy? You liked her post? You even commented, wishing them a happy life together?"

Sarah snatched my phone, her voice trembling with anger.

"Don't you get it? Chloe made that post just to piss you off! It was only visible to you! She's declaring war!"

I took my phone back from Sarah and turned off the screen.

"I know."

Sarah froze.

She stared at me with wide eyes, as if she didn't recognize me, then slumped onto the couch in defeat.

"Then why are you letting her walk all over you? And Ethan's such an idiot, doesn't he know what day it is today? It's deposit day! This is the apartment you two have been looking at for a whole year!"

"Sarah, do me a favor."

"Tell me! Are we going to the hospital to tear apart that toxic couple? I'll go start the car right now!"

"No." I shook my head, pulling the purchase agreement from my bag. "Come with me to the bank. I need to make a large transfer."

Sarah's eyes lit up: "You're paying the deposit yourself? And not putting his name on it?"

"Not the deposit," I said, looking at the blank space on the contract where both our names were supposed to go. "It's the full amount. I'm buying it alone."

Sarah's expression shifted from shock to pity, then to a strange, indescribable bitterness. She didn't ask any more questions, just squeezed my arm tightly.

At ten that night, Ethan's message finally popped up.

"Ash, Chloe's stable now, just minor scrapes. I'll treat you to a big dinner tomorrow to make it up to you."

"I'll definitely take time off next week to go with you for the apartment. I've already talked to the agent."

"Go to bed early, don't overthink it."

There it was again. Those three words.

*Don't overthink it.*

For seven years, every time he stood me up for Chloe, every time he put me through something for Chloe, it always ended with those flimsy three words.

As if all my anger and hurt were because I was petty, and not because he had no boundaries.

I replied: "Okay."

He immediately sent back a head-patting emoji.

I tossed my phone onto the couch and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

His electric toothbrush was still on the counter, next to his men's face wash, which he'd just opened yesterday.

I grabbed a trash bag and swept in his toothbrush, face wash, razor, and the towel he kept at my place.

Sarah leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching me.

"Ash, are you serious this time?"

I didn't turn around. I pulled a few of his shirts from the balcony clothesline and folded them into a cardboard box.

"A month ago, I submitted a transfer request to head office to move to the branch. Back then, I just wanted a change of scenery. But today, I'm truly done with him."

"Because of that post?"

"Because this morning, before he left, he poured me a cup of warm water with honey."

Sarah didn't understand. "What's wrong with that?"

"Last week, Chloe said her stomach had been bothering her, and she needed to drink honey water every morning. Ethan remembered that. But he forgot that honey gives me severe stomach cramps."

I pressed a hand to my subtly aching stomach, forcing a smile.

In my sophomore year of college, I'd accidentally eaten honey and had such bad stomach cramps I was writhing in the dorm. He'd carried me on his back, running two blocks to the infirmary.

Later, he remembered honey water was good for Chloe's stomach, but forgot that honey would make me miserable.

Sarah fell silent.

The tape on the cardboard box made a harsh tearing sound.

I sealed the box and brushed the dust from my hands.

I didn't cry.

I just felt that seven years, that measure of time, had suddenly become incredibly ridiculous.

The next morning, the real estate agent called.

"Ms. Lynn, your full payment has been received, and the contract process is complete. This apartment now officially belongs entirely to you."

"Great, thank you."

"And Mr. Green...?"

"You don't need to worry about him. The money came from me, the contract was signed by me. He has nothing to do with it."

After hanging up, Sarah handed me an iced Americano.

"Does Ethan know you have that much money?"

"No. He thinks I've spent all my salary on daily expenses these past few years."

"So that money..."

"I started taking on freelance design work right after college, pulling countless all-nighters to save it up. I planned to use it as startup capital for his business after we got married."

Sarah slammed her coffee cup onto the table. "Ashley, how much have you actually spent on him over these seven years?"

I opened my budgeting app on my phone and showed it to her.

The BMW he drove? His parents paid the down payment, and he thought the monthly car loan was only three hundred bucks.

It was actually six hundred. The other three hundred? I'd secretly transferred it to his account every month.

He loved gaming. That three-thousand-dollar Alienware computer? He thought he'd won it in a mall raffle.

Actually, I'd spent half a month's salary on it and even roped the store manager into a whole charade.

Last month, his mom was hospitalized, and they were short two thousand for the surgery. He was frantic. I gave him the money without a second thought.

Later, his mom held Chloe's hand and said, "Chloe is such a thoughtful girl, always coming to visit me at the hospital."

I stood outside the hospital room, carrying a pot of freshly made chicken soup, listening to their happy laughter inside. I turned around and dumped the soup in the trash.

And on my birthday, Ethan gave me a cheap phone case he'd picked up from a discount store, saying we were practically an old married couple already, and practicality was what mattered most.

Sarah's eyes grew redder the more she looked.

Taken individually, these might just be small disappointments.

But seven years of layered grievances had long since suffocated me.

At noon, Ethan sent a message.

"Ash, what do you want for lunch? I'll pick you up."

"I neglected you yesterday, so I'll spend the whole day with you today."

I replied: "No thanks, I'm out with Sarah."

He immediately replied: "What about tonight? I booked our favorite Thai restaurant."

My *favorite* Thai restaurant? The last time I went was three years ago.

But in those three years, he'd taken Chloe no less than five times.

I'd even seen check-in photos of that restaurant on Chloe's social media, with the man I bought the shirt for sitting across from her.

"Busy tonight too. I have plans."

Two minutes later, his call came through.

"Ash, are you still mad?" His voice had a hint of helpless amusement, like he was coaxing an unreasonable child.

"No. I really have plans."

"What could be more important than having dinner with me?" he asked back, laughing, his voice full of certainty.

He was so sure I couldn't live without him, so sure I'd always be waiting for him.

I looked at the text message that had just arrived from the property company on my phone screen and calmly said, "I'm finalizing the apartment title."

Dead silence on the other end of the line.

After a full five seconds, he let out a dry laugh. "What kind of joke are you playing?"

"No joke. I bought the apartment. All cash. My name only."

"Ashley!" His voice instantly rose, filled with unrestrained fury. "Are you done with this drama?"

I didn't speak.

"Just because I didn't show up yesterday? Didn't I explain it to you? Chloe was shaken up by a car accident, what's wrong with me going to keep her company as a friend? Do you have to be so petty?"

"Yeah, I know. So I bought it myself. No need to trouble you."

"You... you just wait, I'm coming to find you right now!"

He hung up.

Sarah looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "Someone's getting desperate?"

I tossed my phone back into my bag, surprised that my heartbeat was perfectly steady.

At three in the afternoon, Ethan stormed into the coffee shop where Sarah and I were.

He was breathless, sweat on his forehead, his eyes full of disbelief as he looked at me.

"Ashley, say what you just said again?"

"I said, I bought the apartment, all cash, in my name."

He slammed his hand on the table, making everyone around us look over.

"Where did you get so much money? Are you out of your mind? That's our future home, how can you decide that on your own?"

"My money, I can do whatever I want with it." I took a sip of my coffee. "As for our future home, now it's just my apartment."

Ethan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

He pulled out a chair and sat down, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away.

He awkwardly retracted his hand, his tone softening. "Ash, I know you're upset about yesterday. But we're supposed to live in this apartment together, how am I going to explain this to my parents?"

He wasn't feeling bad about my hurt; he was worried about explaining it to his parents.

"No need to explain." I looked at him. "Ethan, I've been thinking about something recently."

"What is it?"

"Work-related."

He visibly relaxed, his tense shoulders slumping, even a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

"You scared me to death. I thought you were going to call off the engagement."

His tone when he said that was so casual, it was almost cruel.

As if the idea of "Ashley leaving Ethan" was preposterous.

"Oh, right." He pulled a delicate little velvet box from his pocket and pushed it across the table to me. "I bought this necklace for you when I passed the mall, as an apology. Chloe said it would really suit your style."

I looked at the box but didn't touch it.

"Chloe helped you pick it out?"

"Yeah, she has good taste. She also said she felt bad about taking up your time yesterday and insisted I get you a gift."

I opened the box. Inside was a silver four-leaf clover necklace.

It looked familiar.

I opened Chloe's Instagram page. Three days ago, she'd posted: "Love this necklace so much, but it's too expensive. Guess I'll come back for you when I get paid next month."

The picture was of that exact necklace.

I pushed the box back to him.

"I don't like it. You should give it to her."

Ethan's face changed. "Ashley, don't be ungrateful. I'm trying to make things right, and you're going to be sarcastic about it?"

"I'm not being sarcastic. I just think, since she likes it, it's more fitting for you to give it to her."

I stood up and picked up my bag.

"I have to go. I'm busy."

"Ashley!" He called after me. "If you walk out that door today, don't expect me to come after you again!"

I didn't look back. I pushed open the coffee shop door and stepped out into the blinding sunlight.

Wednesday afternoon, I was reviewing the final transfer checklist at the office.

Chloe posted a private Instagram story, visible only to me.

In the photo, she was wearing that four-leaf clover necklace, smiling sweetly.

The caption: "Some people just remember every little thing you say. Thanks for the gift."

I took a screenshot with a blank face and saved it to a photo album titled "Letting Go."

That album already held dozens of screenshots.

Late-night takeout orders he'd placed for Chloe;

The jacket he'd lent Chloe;

Their backs, secretly holding hands during a company team-building event, hidden from everyone else.

Sarah said I was torturing myself.

But I wasn't.

This was my reality check. Whenever I thought back on the past seven years, and felt even the slightest waver in my resolve, I'd open that album and look through it.

Afterward, my heart would turn completely cold.

Before I left work, Ethan sent a message.

"I have a dinner meeting tonight, you don't have to wait up for me."

I replied: "Okay."

Before, if he said he had a dinner meeting, I'd always stay up for him, prepare a hangover remedy, and help him out of his alcohol-soaked clothes.

Now, I just wanted to go to bed early.

At eleven that night, my phone vibrated.

It was a call from Ethan.

"Ash..." He was slurring his words, clearly drunk.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I'm at the Siren Lounge. Can you come pick me up? My head really hurts..."

The background was noisy, but I clearly heard a woman's voice.

"Ethan, slow down, I've got you."

It was Chloe.

I calmly said, "Since Chloe's there, let her take you home."

"No! I want *you* to pick me up! You're my fiance!" He yelled into the phone like a spoiled child.

"I'm tired, I'm already asleep."

I hung up immediately and turned off my phone.

The next morning when I turned it on, the screen showed over a dozen missed calls and messages from Ethan.

"Ashley, you've changed. You never used to ignore me."

"I threw up the whole way home last night. Chloe took care of me all night."

"What exactly is this tantrum you're throwing?"

I looked at the messages and found them utterly ridiculous.

*I've changed?*

Yes, I finally stopped being an on-call, no-boundaries babysitter.

I didn't reply to him. Instead, I clicked on the email from HR.

"Regarding the Appointment of Ashley Lynn as New York Branch Director"

Effective date: The tenth of next month.

I clicked confirm.

Less than twenty days until I left this city, left this man.

That weekend, Ethan suddenly said he wanted to take me to a newly opened resort nearby for a hot spring.

"Things have been so tense between us lately. Let's go relax, think of it as an early honeymoon."

He loaded luggage into the trunk, looking at me pleadingly.

I watched his busy back and calmly said, "Okay."

The car drove out of the city and onto the highway.

Ethan's phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the screen, a flicker of panic in his eyes, and hung up.

But the phone rang again quickly, as if it wouldn't stop until he answered.

I leaned back against the passenger seat, eyes closed, and said, "Answer it. Maybe it's urgent."