He Was the First to Leave

It was our fifth year together.

My mother had given me a strict ultimatum.

Either marry him, or break up.

And I had brought up marriage three times.

The first time, Oliver said: Sasha fell at home. I need to take her to the hospital for a checkup. We'll talk about this when I get back.

The second time, he said: "The limited-edition collectibles Sasha wants are launching in stores today. I have to get in line early. Don't rush me."

The third time, I looked him dead in the eye and asked him directly: is it marriage, or a breakup?

He stared at me in silence for a long time.

"Stop making a scene. We will get married, but not right now. I promised Sasha I wouldn't get married until she finds a boyfriend."

Having finally received the answer I needed, I stopped arguing.

I picked up my phone and called the jewelry store I had contacted weeks ago.

"You can cancel the custom men's wedding ring. I don't need it anymore."

He had no idea that I had given him three chances to choose me.

Now that those three chances were gone, I would never wait for him again.

After finalizing the cancellation with the jeweler, I called a secondhand appliance buyer.

When the man arrived and saw the items I was selling, his jaw dropped, his booming voice echoing through the hallway.

"Young lady, are you sure you don't want your fridge, your TV, and your sofa? They all look practically brand new. Shouldn't you discuss this with your partner first?"

I shook my head. "There is no need. Just calculate the price. You can take everything today."

Seeing my determination, the man stopped asking questions and offered a fair price. Once we shook hands, a bright grin spread across his face.

"These are massive items, miss. I can't fit them all in my truck in one go. Do you mind if I haul them away in batches?"

"That's fine."

By the time Oliver came home from work, the movers were in the middle of carrying our television out the door.

"What's going on? Where are they taking the TV?" Oliver's brow furrowed, his deep voice laced with confusion.

"I sold it," I replied simply, making no effort to hide the truth.

"Sold it?" Oliver let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "You sold the TV? What is Sasha supposed to watch when she comes over? You know how much she loves streaming her shows."

Before he could even finish his sentence, a thought seemed to strike him, and his tense brow relaxed slightly.

"Actually, forget it. The old one was too small anyway, it was straining her eyes. Good riddance. I'll buy a bigger one."

When I had first suggested buying a television, he had been entirely against the idea. We're both busy with work, Gemma. Who has time to watch TV? It'll just sit there collecting dust.

But he had forgotten that I lacked any sense of security.

Whenever he worked overtime, I was left entirely alone in this cold, empty apartment. The absolute silence terrified me.

So, despite his protests, I had bought the television.

I had hoped that whenever I felt lonely and afraid, the soft hum of the TV would act as a surrogate for Olivers presence.

I never imagined that after buying it, the person who used it most wouldn't be me, but his childhood friend, Sasha.

I didn't say a word.

Oliver pulled out his phone and began browsing online. Once he placed the order, he looked up to offer a casual warning.

"Make sure you don't fight Sasha for the remote anymore. She's still basically a child. Be the mature one and let her have her way."

That sentence.

In the five years we had been together, I had heard it countless times.

Whenever Sasha was around, nothing in this home belonged to me. I was always expected to yield.

In the past, hearing those words would have triggered a massive argument. But now, I simply offered a quiet nod.

"I know. I won't fight her for it ever again."

Not just the remote.

I won't fight her for you, either.

Hearing my compliance, a look of profound relief flashed in Oliver's eyes.

He let out a soft sigh. "Gemma, if only you had been this sensible in the past."

In the past, the mere mention of Sasha's name would send my emotions spiraling out of control.

Like last year, when he took my birthday gift and gave it to Sasha.

I had broken down, pointing a finger at him as I screamed: Sasha is the only person you care about! If you love her so much, why don't you make her your girlfriend?

That day, the look he gave me was colder than ice.

In his eyes, I was nothing more than a hysterical, unreasonable madwoman.

With deep disgust, he had muttered: Gemma, I view Sasha as a sister. Stop spewing garbage.

Whenever I complained after that, he would simply say: A dirty mind sees dirt in everything.

But he had no idea.

I argued because I still cared.

Now, my silence wasn't because I had become "sensible." It was because I had stopped loving him.

"By the way, Sasha is attending a high school reunion tonight. Some of her old classmates always target her, and she can't handle them alone. I need to go with her, so don't wait up for dinner."

Without waiting for my reply, he walked straight into the bedroom to freshen up and change.

My phone buzzed with a message from the appliance buyer.

Miss Qiao, I've transferred the money for the TV. How about I transfer the payment for each item as we haul them away?

I typed back a brief agreement.

When Oliver emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed, I was busy packing the throw pillows, blankets, and plush toys from the sofa into a large trash bag.

I looked at him. "These are all Sasha's things. Should I put them in your room, or are you going to return them to her?"

Every single one of these items had been bought by Oliver for her.

She had once casually complained while watching a movie that the sofa felt too empty and barren.

The very next day, Oliver had bought her favorite pink pillows and blankets, creating a cozy little corner dedicated entirely to her.

Whenever I accidentally sat in her designated spot, his face would cloud over. The sofa is huge, Gemma. Can't you sit somewhere else? Sasha has OCD, she hates seeing her things messed up.

He would make me move, then meticulously fold the blanket and arrange the toys back in their exact positions.

"Gemma, what are you throwing a fit about now? Those things were perfectly fine on the sofa. Why do you always have to look for trouble?" His voice carried a cold, suppressed irritation.

"I sold the sofa. The movers are taking it tomorrow. You can do whatever you want with those things."

I set the bag down by his bedroom door, refusing to engage further.

As I turned to go back to my room to get changed for dinner, Oliver's dismissive scoff echoed behind me.

"I told you that sofa was awful when you bought it. I'm glad you're finally willing to sell it and get a new one."

"Don't worry about buying the replacement. I'll handle it. Sasha has a bad back, she can't lie on a firm leather sofa. I'll pick out something soft for her, otherwise she'll be uncomfortable."

The only reason I had chosen a firm leather sofa was because he had told me it was better for the lumbar spine and neck.

I had remembered every single word he had ever spoken.

But he had never once kept my needs in his heart.

I pressed my lips together, my voice barely a whisper. "Whatever you want."

It didn't matter.

I would be gone in a few days anyway. Whatever he bought had absolutely nothing to do with me.

Shortly after Oliver left, I got changed and went out.

I picked a restaurant that had rave reviews online. But when the hostess led me to my table, familiar laughter drifted from behind the decorative screen next to me.

"Sasha, you're amazing! You actually bagged the golden boy of our high school. How long have you two been together?"

"Yes! When is the wedding? Don't forget to invite us to the celebration!"

"I knew they would end up together! Back in school, Oliver was ice-cold to everyone, but he was always different with Sasha. It's just like those romantic posts online, his eyes literally light up when he looks at her!"

Hearing those two names, my feet froze.

I instinctively glanced through the gaps in the screen.

Oliver and Sasha had their backs to me. I couldn't see their expressions, but I clearly saw Oliver carefully picking the bones out of a fish and placing the tender meat into her bowl.

A collective gasp of envy erupted from the table.

"Oh my gosh, Sasha, he is so attentive! I'm so jealous. If my husband had even half his sweetness, we wouldn't be fighting every other day."

"Exactly! You are so lucky!"

Basking in their admiration, Stella's face glowed with pride, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"It's nothing, really. Oliver just understands me perfectly. It's no big deal."

Yes. Oliver understood her perfectly.

A single glance from her was enough for him to know exactly what she wanted.

If she wanted to watch a midnight movie, even if he was exhausted, he would instantly get dressed and drive her to the theater.

If she wanted to hike a mountain, even though he had a severe fear of heights, he would swallow his panic to accompany her.

Meanwhile, when I was burning with a high fever that eventually turned into pneumonia, begging him to take me to the clinic, he had shrugged me off.

Sasha's dog is missing, and she's hysterical. I have to help her search.

It's just a mild fever, Gemma. You're not going to die. Drive yourself.

The memory brought back my mother's words from earlier this year.

Gilly, when your father and I started dating, he couldn't wait to visit your grandmother's house the very next day to ask for my hand. You and Oliver have been together for five years. Has he brought up marriage even once?

If you keep wasting your youth on him, what are you going to do when you're older and he decides to walk away?

At the time, my thoughts had been incredibly naive.

I had decided to give Oliver three chances. If he showed even a sliver of desire to build a future with me, I would have kept waiting.

I had even contacted the jewelry store to pre-order our rings.

But reality had delivered a stinging, humiliating slap to my face.

When he told me he wouldn't marry until Sasha found a boyfriend, I had asked him: What if she never finds anyone?

After a long, heavy silence, he had replied: A marriage is just a piece of paper. As long as our relationship is stable, it doesn't matter whether we have it or not.

I understood his meaning perfectly.

He was saying that as long as Sasha was single, he would remain single for her.

In that single second, I realized how utterly pathetic our five years together had been.

"Oh! Gemma? What are you doing here?"

A familiar gasp cut through the air.

I looked up to find Sasha standing right beside my table, staring at me in surprise.

Hearing her voice, Oliver turned around. His eyes locked onto mine, his expression tightening instantly.

He looked terrified that I might say something to ruin his performance.

"Oliver, Sasha, do you know this beautiful lady?" one of their classmates asked.

I looked at Oliver, curious to see what he would say.

He slowly averted his gaze, his voice completely flat. "No. I don't know her."

The words slammed into my chest, shattering the very last thread of affection I had left for him.

I let out a soft, clear laugh.

Looking at Sasha, I smiled. "Yes. I don't know them. You must have mistaken me for someone else."

Sasha playfully stuck out her tongue, quickly following our lead.

"Ah, my bad. I got the wrong person."

She and her friends headed toward the restroom.

Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Oliver.

I'm only here to help Sasha save face. Don't overthink it. Once you're done eating, wait for me there. We'll head back together. The power is out at Sasha's apartment complex, so she's staying at our place tonight.

It wasn't a discussion.

It was an explanation and an executive order, delivered with a twisted sense of charity.

After all, whenever Sasha stayed over in the past, he had never once bothered to inform me beforehand.

I didn't reply to his message, nor did I wait for him.

I booked a ticket for a movie that was about to start, bought a boba tea, and walked into the theater.

Before long, Oliver sent another message asking where I was.

I ignored it. When he called, I switched off my phone without a second thought.

By the time I returned to the apartment after the movie, the living room was bathed in a warm glow. Oliver was patiently blow-drying Sashas hair while she sat in her silk pajamas.

The scene was incredibly domestic and warm.

It made me feel like an intruder who had accidentally stumbled into someone else's happy home.

"Gemma, you're finally back! Where did you go?" Sasha was the first to notice me. She set Olivers phone down, blinking at me with forced innocence.

"If you have the guts to ignore my calls and messages, you should have the guts to stay out," Oliver said, not pausing his movements. He cast a sharp, mocking look in my direction.

In the past, his biting words would have carved a painful wound in my chest.

Now, I felt entirely indifferent, as if I were listening to a stranger's empty chatter.

Ignoring him, I walked toward the kitchen.

The refrigerator was also mine, and I had already arranged to sell it.

The moment I pulled the door open, the cool air hit my face.

When I had checked the fridge this afternoon, it was practically bare. But now, it was stuffed to the brim with the specific milk and fruits that Sasha loved.

Before I could even react, Oliver stepped up and slammed the fridge door shut.

"Everything in there was bought for Sasha. She likes to have a stockpile. If you want something, go buy it yourself tomorrow."

"The fridge is mine," I said, looking at him calmly. "If you want to keep it, I can sell it to you at a discount."

He let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"This apartment is mine. Are you sure you want to count pennies with me like this?"

Seeing the absolute contempt in his eyes, a sudden wave of clarity washed over me.

When I had first moved in, he had begged me on his knees. Gemma, I can't bear to be apart from you. I miss you the second you're out of my sight. As long as you're willing to move in with me, my home is your home. I promise you, if we ever fight, I'll be the one to pack up and leave. I will never make you feel like you don't belong.

I pressed my lips together, refusing to waste another breath.

I went into my bedroom and calculated the exact cost of three years of rent.

Once the math was done, I pulled out my suitcase, packed my clothes, and slipped the calculated cash into an envelope.

I walked out, rolling my suitcase behind me, and set the heavy envelope on the table in front of Sasha.

"This is the rent for the three years I've lived here, minus the cost of the refrigerator. You can count it."

Sasha looked panicked. "Gemma, what are you doing? Oliver didn't mean to kick you out, he was just..."

"Sasha, stop talking!" Oliver snarled, snatching the envelope and shoving it into her hands. "Just keep it as pocket money."

He turned to me, his teeth clenched, his eyes blazing with fury. "Gemma, if you want to leave, get the hell out. But don't you dare regret this! I want to see exactly where you think you can go after walking out that door!"

I ignored his venomous words, gripped the handle of my suitcase, and walked out.

As the heavy front door clicked shut behind me, Sasha's voice drifted through the gap.

"Oliver, go after her! It's the middle of the night, where is she supposed to go?"

Oliver let out a cold, dismissive scoff.

"Leave her. She'll be back in two days. She always comes back."

He had no idea that I was never coming back.

The moment I decided to let him go, he ceased to exist in my future.