Chapter 3

The next morning, I made coffee. She was chirping about how we shouldn't let one disagreement ruin something beautiful. I nodded while drinking my mug. Inside, I was done.She left for work around 10:00. I called off sick, and then I got to work on me.By 2:00 p.m., I'd reserved the storage unit. By 5:00 p.m., I booked a short-term sublet across town. Over the next two days, while she was at work, I packed everything that was mine: took my desk, my PC, clothes, books, guitar—everything. I even left the stuff I bought for her. She could keep it.The last thing I did before locking the door was leave a single note on the kitchen counter:You're free now, just like you wanted. Don't contact me.Then, I walked out and never looked back.The first few weeks were weirdly quiet. I thought I'd feel free; instead, I felt like I'd stepped off a moving train. Everything was still. I didn't have Sarah's voice bouncing around the apartment: no sarcastic comments, no laughter, no TikToks blasting from the other room. Just me and a foldout bed in a small rental with beige walls and silence.For a while, I kept waiting for the breakdown to hit—the one where I'd cry or scream or regret it—but it never came. I was heartbroken, yeah, but not because I missed her. I missed who I thought she was. There's a difference.In that silence, I started doing things I hadn't done in years. I reconnected with friends I hadn't seen since she called them boring. I went to the gym every morning. I took long walks without checking my phone. I opened a savings account just for myself. I started sleeping deeper, better.The biggest change: I stopped second-guessing myself. Sarah used to make me feel like every boundary I had was an attack on her freedom. Like wanting exclusivity meant I was trying to cage her. Like wanting honesty meant I was trying to control her narrative.But now I was alone. And for the first time in two years, I felt sane.I didn't block her on everything, just the main channels: phone, Instagram, email. I knew if she really wanted to get through, she'd find a way. And after two weeks of silence, she did.It started with a mutual friend texting me:Hey, not taking sides, but Sarah's been spiraling. You okay?I ignored it.Three days later, I got an email from her personal account. Just the subject line was enough:

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