"The worst part is how stupid I feel," she said. "Everyone tried to warn me, but I thought I knew better. Thought I deserved that lifestyle."
She looked around my place. The downtown condo, the new furniture, the view of the city I had worked my ass off to afford. And I could see her putting pieces together.
"You have done well for yourself," she said quietly.
"Been staying busy."
"Mira told me you bought some properties and got promoted."
"Market's been good to me."
We sat in silence for a minute. Then she looked at me with this expression I had never seen before. Vulnerable, but also calculating.
"Do you think..." she started, then stopped. "Do you think there is any chance we could try again? I know I messed up. I was shallow and materialistic, and I threw away something good for something that looked better on Instagram."
Part of me felt bad for her. Genuinely. Getting played sucks, regardless of how it happens.
But another part of me was thinking about that night at dinner. About how she had looked at me like a financial disappointment.
"I appreciate you apologizing," I said. "That took guts. But I think we are looking for different things."
"I am not the same person I was then," she said quickly. "This whole thing taught me what actually matters. I don't care about expensive restaurants or luxury trips anymore."
"Maybe not," I said. "But I am not the same person either."
She started to say something else, but my doorbell rang. I had forgotten I had plans.
Opened the door to find Thalia, the pediatric resident I had been seeing for about 6 weeks.
We'd met at a charity fundraiser I had attended for networking. She was there because she genuinely cared about kids' health. I was there to meet potential clients. Ended up talking for 3 hours about everything except work.
"Hey," she said, then noticed Alera on my couch. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize you had company."
"Thalia, this is Alera, my ex. Alera, this is Thalia."
The contrast was immediate and striking. Thalia in scrubs from a 12-hour hospital shift, tired but genuinely happy to see me. Alera in full Instagram-ready makeup despite the crying, clearly sizing up the competition.
"I should go," Alera said, standing quickly. "Calen, think about what I said."
After she left, Thalia raised an eyebrow. "That seemed intense."
"Ancient history," I said. "How was your day?"
What I didn't tell Thalia, and what I am realizing as I write this, is how different it felt to be chosen by someone who knew exactly what I was worth, versus being settled for by someone who thought she could do better.
Thalia makes good money, but more importantly, she makes good choices.
When I told her about my real estate investments, she asked thoughtful questions about market trends and cash flow analysis. When I mentioned working weekends to close a big deal, she offered to bring me dinner instead of complaining about my priorities.