His GPS Never Forgot His Ex

Which home is programmed in your GPS?

I stared at his dashcam logs.

For the past month, he took a detour after work every single day, driving past his ex-girlfriends apartment.

He claimed it was just on the way. But our house is on the East Side, and hers is on the West Side.

Two years of marriage, and his gas bills were double everyone else's.

I checked the E-ZPass statements. One hundred and eight times. He drove right under her building.

I confronted him with the records. He slammed his phone onto the table. "Are you insane? Is driving past a building illegal now?"

Last week was her birthday. His car was parked in her apartment's underground garage for four hours.

He said he was helping her move furniture.

I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene.

I taped the E-ZPass statement to the fridge and put on my coat.

"Tomorrow, drive me back to our old college campus. To the trail where we first held hands."

I had already told my lawyer to draft the divorce papers.

If, after walking that trail, his heart was still with me, we'd keep going.

If not.

Then that trail would be where we parted ways.

"Are we going or not? What's so special about a stupid trail?"

Ethan sat in the driver's seat, impatiently honking the horn.

In the morning, I had taped the E-ZPass statement to the fridge, asking him to take me back to our college campus.

In the past, every sticky note I left on the fridge would be carefully collected by him in a wooden box. He used to say they were proof of our love.

Now, that billing statement only got me a sour face and an aggressive grab of his car keys.

I opened the back door and sat in the back seat.

Ethan looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Why are you sitting in the back? Am I your chauffeur now?"

I said, "The passenger seat is pushed too far forward."

That was Hailey's habit.

She was petite and always liked to push the passenger seat all the way to the front.

Ethan frowned. "Then just adjust it back. Its not a big deal."

Seeing that I didn't move, he shook his head and started the engine.

The car was filled with the heavy scent of Hailey's favorite perfume.

My throat felt itchy, and I coughed twice.

Ethan snapped immediately. "What's wrong with you now?"

"I'm allergic to heavy perfumes. You forgot."

"Hailey rode in my car yesterday to meet a client and sprayed it. Don't be so dramatic, okay?"

He glanced at me through the mirror, his eyes full of annoyance, and rolled down the window.

The wind rushed in, diluting the scent a bit.

Three years ago, when he first bought this car.

Just to pick me up from work, he put charcoal bags in the car two weeks in advance and wiped the leather seats with lemon water every day.

Because I had told him that the smell of a new car made me sick.

Back then, he wouldn't even hang any ornaments on the mirror.

He said they would swing around and make me dizzy.

Now, a cute little charm Hailey gave him hung right from the rearview mirror.

I closed my eyes. "Can you take that charm down? Its making me dizzy."

"Why do you have so many issues today?"

Ethan slammed on the brakes.

I lurked forward, hitting the back of the front seat. My chest throbbed with pain.

I held my chest and said nothing.

Ethan glanced at me again through the mirror and adjusted the AC vents to blow cold air to the back.

In the past, this tiny bit of care would have made me happy for days.

Now, it just felt pathetic.

I looked at the barren trees outside, pulling my coat tighter.

He said, "Hailey custom-ordered that charm for me. She said it brings good luck. It's bad luck to take it down."

I rubbed my aching temples.

He used to drive so smoothly, slowing down long before a red light.

He was always afraid that sudden braking would make me throw up.

Now, because he was in a hurry, he kept weaving in and out of lanes.

With every sharp turn, my stomach churned.

I said softly, "Slow down."

"I can't. Hailey said her cat is having severe anxiety and is hiding under the bed. I need to finish this walk with you quickly so I can go help her."

"Doesn't she have a boyfriend?"

"You know she just broke up and is in a terrible mood. Why are you picking a fight over a hurting girl?"

I let out a soft laugh and didn't reply.

The car speakers suddenly blasted heavy metal musicHailey's favorite.

My stomach felt worse and worse as the trees outside blurred past.

I didn't even have the energy to ask him to turn it down.

"I need some loud music to stay awake. You just sleep," he said.

In the past, as long as I was in the car, the playlist was strictly soft piano music.

He said he didn't want to disturb my rest.

Now, even my voice annoyed him.

My phone vibrated.

It was a text from my lawyer.

[Hi Avery, the divorce settlement has been sent to your email. Please review it.]

Right then, Ethan's phone rang too. He picked up the FaceTime call.

"Hailey, what's wrong?"

"Ethan, the cat still won't come out. I'm so scared."

"Don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I finish this routine check with Avery."

A routine check.

That was what he called the final walk of our eight-year relationship.

"Then hurry up, please. I can't do this alone."

"Okay, wait for me."

Ethan hung up and sped up even more.

I stared out the window, my eyes burning.

"Ethan," I called him.

"What now?"

I paused, then said, "Nothing. Just focus on the road."

We pulled into a highway rest stop, and Ethan's phone rang again.

"How did you cut yourself? Don't move, I'm coming right now!"

He put out his cigarette, threw the door open, and hopped back into the driver's seat.

"Ethan, I'm not in the car yet."

He didn't look back.

I walked to the car, and just as my hand touched the rear door handle, the car jolted forward.

The sudden movement threw me to the ground. My knee slammed against the concrete, and the pain made my vision go black.

Years ago, I had sprained my ankle at this very rest stop.

He had carried me on his back for over a mile to the nearest clinic, cursing himself the whole way for letting me get hurt.

Back then, Ethan truly treated me like his entire world.

Now, I lay on the ground right next to his car, and he didn't even bother to open his door.

Ethan hit the brakes, rolled down the window, and stuck his head out, frowning deeply.

"Can't you watch where you're walking? Why did you run into the car?"

I sat on the ground, watching blood seep through my ripped jeans. The pain made my voice shake. "You started driving suddenly."

"Hailey cut her hand slicing peaches. Shes bleeding a lot. I have to get back."

He said this while sitting comfortably in his seat, not even unbuckling his seatbelt.

I looked at him, suddenly remembering when I cut my finger chopping vegetables years ago.

The cut was tiny, but his face had turned pale with fear. He ran out in the middle of the night to buy bandages and antiseptic, holding me afterward and promising hed never let me cook again.

Now, my knee was scraped raw, and he only saw me as an inconvenience.

"Get in."

He grabbed a handful of napkins and threw them to the back seat.

"Are there any Band-Aids in the glove box?" I asked.

"No."

He answered too quickly.

The glove box wasn't fully closed. I could see a box of waterproof Band-Aids inside, right next to a pair of women's flat shoes.

They were all prepared for Hailey.

Once, the passenger seat and the glove box of this car were filled with my things.

Painkillers, candies, motion sickness patches, and little things he kept just in case I needed them.

Now, those things were gone, replaced entirely by the existence of another woman.

The space I thought securely belonged to me had been given away long ago.

He was terrified Hailey's feet would hurt in heels, terrified she wouldn't find a bandage for her cut, yet he wouldn't even give me a single Band-Aid.

Maybe noticing my jeans turning red with blood, Ethan pulled a pack of wet wipes from his pocket and tossed them back.

It was the brand I used to use.

"Clean it up quickly. Don't ruin the leather. When we get there, go buy some ointment at a pharmacy yourself."

Ethan drove incredibly fast, his phone screen constantly lighting up.

It was flooded with messages from Hailey on Snapchat.

"Ethan, it hurts so bad."

"Where are you?"

He held the steering wheel with one hand and typed with the other.

"Almost there."

He used to never touch his phone while driving.

He used to say my safety was more important than anything.

Now, the person who mattered most was already sitting in his heart.

"Avery," he suddenly said. "When we get to the campus, can you just walk that trail by yourself?"

"Hailey really needs me. I'll drop you off, and you can walk it. Just call me when you're done, and we can end this."

End this.

Eight years of love, spoken from his mouth, felt as light as dust.

"No."

He glared at me through the rearview mirror, raising his voice. "Can you stop being so difficult?"

"Ethan, you promised me. You walk this trail with me, and then we make the decision."

He slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

"Fine! We'll walk! I'll walk it with you! Just don't regret it!"

I looked down at the dried blood on my knee.

I wouldn't regret it.

The person who should regret this was never going to be me.

We finally arrived at the campus.

I pushed the door open, and the moment my foot touched the ground, the pain in my knee flared up.

Ethan was already walking ahead without looking back.

We ran straight into Ethans old college roommates and a few underclassmen from our department.

"Whoa, Ethan! Long time no see, man!"

"Avery? You're here too? What happened to your leg?"

Ethan said casually, "She wasn't looking where she was going and tripped."

"That looks nasty. Ethan, you should be carrying her."

Ethan didn't say a word.

A guy next to them leaned in and smiled.

"Ethan, Hailey just posted on Snapchat earlier showing the cake you got her from her favorite bakery. You two have been close for so many years, your friendship really never changes."

As soon as he said that, the atmosphere went cold. The others glared at him.

The guy realized his mistake, looked between Ethan and me, his face turning slightly pale.

I stood there, my fingers tightening around my purse strap.

Ethan and Hailey were childhood sweethearts.

Everyone knew that.

Standing next to him as his wife, I felt like an unwanted intruder.

Ethan didn't bother to explain. He just flicked his cigarette ash.

"Hailey hurt her hand, so I bought her a cake to cheer her up."

He said it so naturally, as if he didn't need to hide it from me at all.

"Avery, don't take it personally. Ethan has always treated Hailey like a little sister." One of his friends tried to smooth things over.

Ethan glanced at me.

"She was bored at home and insisted on coming back here to walk down memory lane. I don't really have the time for this nonsense."

The truth was, I had worked overtime for a week straight just to clear my schedule to accompany him back to our alma mater for the Alumni Homecoming preparation.

But in his words, I became an idle housewife dragging him here to waste his time.

The looks on his friends' faces shifted.

Years ago, right in front of the restaurant next to this plaza, Ethan had knelt down and proposed to me in front of everyone.

He had said Avery was the pride of his life.

If anyone dared to disrespect me, he would fight them on the spot.

Now, he was the one throwing my dignity into the dirt in front of these same people.

"Ethan!"

Hailey ran up from behind and wrapped her arm around Ethan's.

Five years ago on this plaza, Ethan had yelled to the world that I was his destiny.

Everyone who witnessed it remembered that day.

Now, he looked down at Hailey, all his gentleness and patience reserved for her.

Watching them stand together, I suddenly realized there was nothing left to fight for.

This relationship had rotted long ago. There was no going back.

"Why are you here?" Ethans voice softened instantly.

"My hand hurt, and I was scared being alone at home. Once the cat calmed down, I took an Uber over."

Ethan took her hand, inspecting it closely. "How could you be so careless? Didn't I tell you to wait for me at home?"

"But I missed you," Hailey said, tugging his arm playfully.

Only then did she turn her eyes to me.

"Oh, Avery's here too. Why is your leg still bleeding? Ethan, why didn't you take Avery to get patched up?"

Ethan frowned. "She insisted on coming here first."

People around us began to whisper.

Ethan probably heard them. He let go of Hailey's hand and walked toward me.

He didn't ask if I was in pain. He just pulled a napkin from his pocket and handed it to me.

"Wipe it."

I didn't take it. I stepped back.

"No, thank you."

I glanced at the arm Hailey had just held, feeling a wave of nausea.

"You guys catch up. I'll head to the trail first."

I turned and walked away.

Hailey called out from behind, "Avery, please don't be mad! I just wanted to come see Ethan!"

I didn't look back.

My jeans rubbed against the raw wound on my knee with every step, sending sharp jolts of pain up my leg.

But I kept walking.

The trail was lined with beautiful Maple trees.

Now that it was autumn, the ground was covered in a thick blanket of golden leaves.

Eight years ago, this was where Ethan had first taken my hand.

I walked to a bench halfway down the trail and sat down. I pulled a worn sketchbook from my bag.

I had kept this book safe for years, terrified of ruining it.

Inside were drawings of Ethan and journal entries of our years together.

Once, during a storm, Ethan was so afraid the sketchbook would get wet that he held it tightly against his chest under his jacket. He ended up with a high fever and was bedridden for three days.

Back then, he said this book held our beginning, and it was more precious than his own life.

I touched the cover where he had written, "Averys Personal Diary." A tear fell onto my hand.

Over the years, whenever things got hard, I would look at these drawings and tell myself that Ethan used to love me.

But as I flipped through the faded pages now, I knew the Ethan who cherished me was dead.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Ethan walked up, with Hailey trailing beside him.

Hailey was holding two cups of hot coffee.

"Avery, have something warm to drink."

"No, thanks."

Ethan frowned. "Just take it. Hailey stood in line for a long time to get this."

Hailey stepped forward to hand it to me, but she tripped on a root, and the hot coffee splashed directly toward me.

I dodged to the side.

The hot coffee splashed entirely over my open sketchbook.

"My book!"

I lunged to grab it.

But Ethan grabbed my arm first, pulling me back.

"What are you doing? Can't you see Hailey got burned by the hot coffee?"

He grabbed Hailey's hand to check it.

Her skin was barely pink, but her eyes were already brimming with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Avery. It was an accident. I just wanted to bring you some coffee..."

I shook off Ethan's grip and knelt to pick up the sketchbook.

The paper was soaked through, the edges turning to mush at my touch.

The sketched face of Ethan was smeared with brown liquid, completely unrecognizable.

"It's just a cheap sketchbook. Do you have to make such a big deal out of it?"

He walked over, snatched the ruined sketchbook from my hands, and threw it carelessly onto the wooden bench.

"Hailey is wearing a white dress. How is she going to meet clients later with a dirty dress? Use this book to cover the wet bench first."

With that, he guided Hailey to sit down.

Hailey glanced at the book, didn't say a word, and sat right on top of my precious sketchbook.

I stood there, staring at Ethan.

The book he had risked a fever to protect from the rain was now nothing more than a cushion to protect Haileys dress.

The man I loved for eight years had personally stomped our past into the mud.

At this very moment, the pain in my heart vanished.

It just felt completely empty.

Seeing the expression on my face, Ethans tone softened slightly.

"Fine, I'll buy you a couple of designer bags tomorrow to make up for the book. Satisfied?"

I used to wonder how he would apologize if he ever broke my heart.

I never imagined he would try to pay off our memories with a couple of handbags.

That single sentence burned away the last thread of my hesitation.

"Ethan."

I unzipped my bag, pulled out the divorce papers I had printed at the campus library, and thrust them in front of him.

"We finished the walk."

"Sign it."

Ethan froze. His eyes darted from the document to my face.

"Avery, are you done throwing a tantrum? I literally just used your sketchbook as a seat cover."

"I am not throwing a tantrum."

I looked him dead in the eye.

"Ethan, I don't love you anymore."