"Maybe," I said. "But I'll die in a peaceful house that I paid for, without anyone checking their phone under the dinner table."
I stepped back. "Goodbye, Vanessa."
I closed the door. I locked the deadbolt. Click.
I leaned my forehead against the cool wood for a second, listening. I heard her sob once loudly. Then, I heard the elevator ding. Then silence.
Epilogue: The Upgrade
Six months later.
I was at a coffee shop downtown working on my laptop. Life had been quiet, peaceful. My savings account was growing. My skin cleared up. I had started dating a woman named Claire, an architect who thought my "boring" financial planning was incredibly sexy and who never, ever compared me to an ex.
I saw Vanessa.
She was walking past the window. She looked better than she had on my doorstep: clean clothes, hair done, but she looked tired. She was walking with a guy who was shouting into his phone, ignoring her completely. She was trailing behind him, carrying two heavy shopping bags, looking at the back of his head with a mixture of annoyance and resignation.
It wasn't Dylan; it was just another version of him. Another exciting project she was trying to fix. Another chaotic man she had chosen over peace.
She turned her head and saw me through the glass. Our eyes locked.
I didn't wave. I didn't smile. I didn't frown. I just looked at her, then looked back down at my laptop and continued typing.
In that moment, I realized the title of my own story had changed. It wasn't about her betrayal anymore. It wasn't about the dinner. It was about the reason I gave myself to leave.
She wanted a reason to stay; I never gave her one. But she gave me the greatest gift possible: she showed me exactly who she was before I signed the contract for life.
I took a sip of my coffee. It was black, simple, and exactly how I liked it.