Signed Out of Love, Into Ownership

Chloe and I had been together for seven years.

For seven years, we crammed into a tiny rental apartment, pinching pennies until we finally saved enough for the down payment on the beachfront condo we had our eyes onour future marital home.

On the day we were supposed to sign the contract, she didn't show up.

She sent me a text, saying Ethan had been in a car accident, and she needed to be with him at the hospital. We'd sign the house papers next week.

Then she added one last line.

"Don't overthink it. I just see him as a little brother."

I stared at the screen for three minutes, then replied with just one word: "Okay."

I immediately turned around, walked into the sales office with my bank card, and paid the full amount for the condo instead of just the down payment.

The deed only had my name on it.

As I walked out of the sales office, I happened to scroll past a new post from Ethan.

He wrote:

"When I was most scared, she was the first one there. The hospital's disinfectant smell is awful, but with her here, I feel so much peace."

The accompanying picture showed Chloe leaning in to drape a jacket over him, their shoulders touching, an intimacy that was glaring.

My finger paused, then I liked the post and left a comment:

"You two look good together. She's all yours from now on."

"Liam, are you out of your mind? You liked his post? And commented 'happily ever after'?"

Ryan snatched my phone, his voice trembling with anger.

"Don't you know Ethan's post was deliberately designed to piss you off? He's declaring war on you!"

I took my phone back from Ryan and pressed the screen dark.

"I know."

Ryan froze.

He stared at me, as if he didn't recognize me, then slumped onto the sales office sofa.

"Then you're just going to let him walk all over you? Chloe's such an airhead; doesn't she know what today is? It's the down payment for your new home! That's the place you two have been looking at for a whole year!"

"Ryan, do me a favor."

"Tell me, are we going to the hospital to confront that couple? I'll go get the car right now!"

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

Ryan's eyes lit up: "You're going to pay the down payment yourself? Not putting her name on it?"

"Not the down payment." I looked at the blank space on the contract where two names were supposed to go. "The full amount. I'm buying it alone."

Ryan's expression shifted from shock to a complex silence. He didn't ask anything else, just clapped me firmly on the shoulder.

At ten that night, Chloe's text finally popped up, slow as ever.

"Liam, Ethan's calmed down, 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 house stuff. I've already told the agent."

"Go to bed early. Don't overthink it."

There were those words again.

Don't overthink it.

For seven years, every time she flaked on me for Ethan, or put me second for Ethan, the ending was always those light, airy words.

As if all my anger and dissatisfaction were due to my narrow-mindedness, and not because she lacked boundaries.

I replied: "Okay."

She instantly sent back a hug emoji.

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

Her electric toothbrush was still on the counter, next to the women's facial cleanser she'd just unsealed yesterday.

I grabbed a trash bag and swept in her toothbrush, facial cleanser, makeup remover, and the towel she kept at my place.

Ryan leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching me.

"Liam, are you serious this time?"

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

"A month ago, I submitted a transfer request to head office for the European branch. Back then, I just wanted a change of scenery. But today, I truly don't want her anymore."

"Because of that post?"

"Because this morning, before she left, she poured me a warm glass of honey water."

Ryan didn't understand: "What's wrong with that?"

"Last week, Ethan said his stomach had been bothering him recently and he needed honey water every morning. But she forgot that honey gives me severe stomach cramps."

I covered my faintly aching stomach and forced a smile.

In college, I'd mistakenly eaten honey and had such acute stomach cramps I was writhing in pain in bed. She was the one who took me to the infirmary.

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

Ryan 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 say anything more.

I just felt that seven-year mark, at this moment, had become utterly ridiculous.

The next morning, the agent from the sales office called.

"Mr. King, your full payment has been processed. The contract is finalized, and the property now entirely belongs to you."

"Okay, thank you."

"And Ms. Chloe..."

"Don't worry about her. I paid for it, I signed the contract. It has nothing to do with her."

After hanging up, Ryan handed me an iced Americano.

"Does Chloe know you have this much money?"

"No. She thought my salary these past few years all went to daily expenses."

"Then this money..."

"I started taking on freelance design gigs right after college, pulling countless all-nighters to save it up. I'd originally planned to keep it for her to start a business after we got married."

Ryan heavily thumped his coffee cup on the table: "Liam, how much have you actually poured into her these past seven years?"

I opened my budgeting app on my phone and showed him.

Her Mercedes. Her parents paid the down payment, and she thought the monthly car payment was only five thousand.

It was actually eight thousand. I secretly transferred the remaining three thousand into her account every month.

She loved photography. That forty-five-thousand-dollar Hasselblad camera? She thought it was a prize from a brand giveaway.

But I'd actually bought it with a month's salary and conspired with the brand manager to stage the whole thing.

Last month, her mom was hospitalized, short thirty thousand for surgery. Chloe was frantic. I didn't hesitate to cover the cost.

Later, her mom held Ethan's hand and said, "Ethan is such a thoughtful child, coming to visit me every day."

I stood outside the hospital room, holding the homemade soup I'd carefully prepared, listening to the joyful laughter inside, then turned and threw the soup into the trash.

And on my birthday, Chloe gave me a cheap belt, saying that since we were getting married, practical gifts were the most important.

The more Ryan read, the deeper his frown became.

Taken individually, these might have just been small frustrations.

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

At noon, Chloe sent a text.

"Liam, 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, Ryan and I are out."

She instantly replied: "What about tonight? I booked your favorite restaurant."

My favorite restaurant. The last time I'd gone there was three years ago.

But in those three years, she'd taken Ethan there no less than five times.

I'd even seen check-in photos of that restaurant on Ethan's social media, with the man wearing the suit I'd bought sitting across from him.

"I'm busy tonight too. I have plans."

Two minutes later, her call came in.

"Liam, are you still mad?"

Her tone carried a hint of helpless amusement, as if she were coaxing a temperamental child.

"No. I really have plans."

"What could be more important than having dinner with me?" she retorted with a laugh, her voice filled with certainty.

She was certain I couldn't leave her, certain I'd always wait for her.

I looked at the property registry confirmation text I'd just received on my phone and said calmly, "I'm getting my property deed."

Dead silence on the other end of the line.

After a full five seconds, she let out a dry laugh: "What kind of joke are you playing with me?"

"No joke. I bought the condo, full payment. With only my name on it."

"Liam!" Her voice instantly rose, carrying an unsuppressed anger. "Are you done making a scene?"

I didn't speak.

"Just because I didn't go yesterday? Didn't I explain it to you? Ethan was traumatized by the car accident. What's wrong with me, as his friend, going to be with him? Do you really have to make such a big deal out of nothing?"

"Yes, I know. So I bought it myself. You don't need to trouble yourself."

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

She hung up.

Ryan looked at me, raising an eyebrow: "Did she freak out?"

I tossed my phone back into my bag, finding that my heartbeat was surprisingly steady.

At three in the afternoon, Chloe burst into the coffee shop where Ryan and I were.

She was panting, sweat beading on her forehead, and when she looked at me, her eyes were filled with disbelief.

"Liam, say what you just said again?"

"I said, I bought the condo, full payment, my name only."

She slammed her hand on the table, making everyone around them turn their heads.

"Where did you get that much money? Are you insane? That was supposed to be our marital home. What right do you have to decide alone?"

"It's my money, of course I can decide." I took a sip of my coffee. "As for a marital home, now it's just *my* home."

Chloe took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

She pulled out a chair and sat down, reaching out to take my hand, but I pulled it away.

She awkwardly withdrew her hand, her tone softening: "Liam, I know you're upset about yesterday. But this condo is where we're supposed to live together. How am I supposed to explain this to my parents if you do this?"

She wasn't worried about me being wronged, but about not being able to explain it to her parents.

"No need to explain." I looked at her. "Chloe, I've been considering something recently."

"What is it?"

"Something about work."

She visibly relaxed, her tense shoulders slumping. She even managed a slight smile.

"You scared me. I thought you were going to call off the wedding!"

Her tone when she said that was so light it was almost cruel.

As if the idea of "Liam leaving Chloe" was a wild fantasy.

"Oh, right." She pulled a delicate little velvet box from her pocket and pushed it across the table to me.

"These are cufflinks I bought for you when I passed the mall. Consider it an apology. Ethan said this style really suits your temperament."

I looked at the box, not touching it.

"Ethan picked them out for you?"

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

I opened the box. Inside was a pair of silver cufflinks.

They looked familiar.

I opened Ethan's social media. Three days ago, he'd posted an update:

"I love these cufflinks so much, but they're too expensive. I'll come pick them up next payday."

The accompanying picture was of these very cufflinks.

I pushed the box back.

"I don't like them. You should give them to him."

Chloe's face changed: "Liam, don't be ungrateful. I'm humbling myself to appease you, and you have to be so sarcastic?"

"I'm not being sarcastic. I just think that since he likes them, they'd be more suitable for you to give to him."

I stood up and picked up my bag.

"I have something to do. I'm leaving."

"Liam!" she called after me. "If you walk out that door today, don't expect me to ever try to appease you again!"

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

Wednesday afternoon, I was finalizing the transfer handover checklist at work.

Ethan posted an update visible only to me.

In the photo, he was wearing those cufflinks, smiling smugly.

The caption read: "Someone always remembers the little things you say. Thanks for the gift."

I expressionlessly screenshotted it and saved it into an album named "Decluttering."

That album already contained dozens of screenshots.

Late-night takeout orders she'd placed for Ethan.

Jackets she'd lent to Ethan.

Their backs as they secretly held hands, away from the crowd, during a company team-building event.

Ryan said I was torturing myself.

But I wasn't.

It was my reality check. Whenever I thought of the past seven years, and felt even the slightest hesitation, I would flip through that album.

After seeing it, my heart would turn completely cold.

Before leaving work, Chloe sent a text.

"I have a dinner engagement tonight. You don't have to wait up for me."

I replied: "Okay."

Before, if she said she had a dinner engagement, I would always stay up waiting for her, prepare hangover soup, and help her take off her alcohol-soaked jacket.

Now, I just wanted to go to bed early.

At eleven that night, my phone vibrated.

It was a call from Chloe.

"Liam..." Her voice was slurred; she was clearly drunk.

"What is it?"

"I... I'm at The Lure Bar. Can you come pick me up? I'm so dizzy..."

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

"Chloe, slow down. I'll help you."

It was Ethan.

I said calmly, "Since Ethan's there, let him take you home."

"No! I want you to pick me up! You're my fianc!" she shouted into the phone like a spoiled child.

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

I hung up the phone directly and turned it off.

When I turned it back on the next morning, over a dozen missed calls popped up on the screen, along with messages from Chloe on SnapChat.

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

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

"What are you even mad about?"

I looked at those messages and found them utterly ridiculous.

I've changed?

Yes, I finally stopped being her on-call, boundary-less nanny.

I didn't reply to her. Instead, I opened the email from HR.

"Appointment Notice Regarding Liam King's Transfer to Director of European Branch."

Effective date: The tenth of next month.

I confirmed receipt.

Less than twenty days until I leave this city, and this person.