2

Vivian had said she'd stay three days, but she was still there on the fifth day.

Her makeup took up half the bathroom cabinet, and the table was covered with her magazines.

When I got home from work, Nathan was taking an apple pie out of the oven.

Once, when I was so hungry my stomach hurt, I'd asked him to bake one for me. He'd said he was no good in the kitchen.

Now he cut his homemade pie into neat slices and set them in front of Vivian.

Vivian sat cross-legged on the couch, raving about his baking between bites.

The two of them talked and laughed. They looked more like a couple than we did.

When Nathan finally noticed me, he asked almost as an afterthought, "Want some?"

Only two broken pieces from the edge remained on the plate, as if they were a handout meant for me.

"I don't want any."

I walked into the kitchen and saw a gift box in the trash.

It was the matching dinnerware set I'd ordered a month earlier as a second-anniversary gift for Nathan.

Vivian was holding the blue mug from the set, with Nathan's name engraved on the bottom.

"Where did that mug come from?"

Nathan replied carelessly, "From the cabinet. It hadn't been used anyway."

"That was an anniversary gift."

Vivian put it down at once. There was a lipstick mark on the rim.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know. How much was it? I'll pay you back."

Nathan took the mug to rinse it. "It's just a mug. We can buy another one."

His tone made it clear he was defending Vivian. I asked, "The box was labeled 'Second Anniversary.' Didn't you see it?"

He paused, then said impatiently, "So what do you want? She already apologized, and she offered to pay you back."

I took out the other mug, the one with my name on it, and dropped it in the trash.

Nathan had no idea this wasn't just about a mug.

Whether Vivian wanted a mug or dinner with him, Nathan gave her whatever she wanted. But his own girlfriend was always left on the sidelines.

There was no point in keeping my half of the set.

A relationship held together by only one person was even less worth keeping.

As soon as I got back to my room, I canceled the dinner reservation and the flower-arranging class I'd booked for our anniversary.

When Nathan saw the refund notice, his face changed.

"Next Tuesday is our anniversary. Why would you cancel the dinner reservation? I have to work, but I can still set aside two hours for us."

Before I could say anything, Vivian jumped in. "Since you two don't have plans anymore, could Nathan go with me to the furniture outlet? They're having their biggest sale next Tuesday."

"I'll go with you during the day," Nathan agreed without a second's hesitation. Then he looked at me. "We can celebrate a little later. We'll just make another reservation."

I looked at him. "You can't just change a reservation at a restaurant that popular. You either show up or you don't."

His face darkened. "I think you're just trying to compete with Vivian. Taking her to the furniture outlet won't take long. We can celebrate our anniversary anytime. Don't be so petty."

Every time he played favorites, he expected me not to compare.

If I never compared, I wouldn't notice that Vivian always came first and I got whatever was left.

In the end, I made another reservation at the restaurant and took my mom there on our anniversary.

Halfway through dinner, I saw that Vivian had posted on Instagram.

In the photo, she was standing outside the furniture outlet, with a trunk full of stuff behind her.

The caption said, "Ever since we were kids, whenever I ask, he always has time."

At the edge of the photo, I recognized Nathan's watch on his wrist.

He didn't arrive until half past eight that night, carrying a matcha cake.

"Traffic was terrible. Happy anniversary."

I didn't like matcha. Vivian did.

Nathan could never keep track of what I liked, but he remembered everything about Vivian.

He frowned at the food, which had long since gone cold.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

I glanced at the time.

"You said you'd give me two hours. There's still an hour and a half left. That's plenty of time for you to finish this meal."

My mom got up and went to the restroom.

Nathan lowered his voice, but his impatience showed. "Don't talk to me like that in front of your mom. It's our anniversary. Can't you be a little more understanding?"

I pushed the cake back toward him.

"Take it with you. Vivian likes matcha. I don't."

And I was done loving Nathan, too.

When I got home, I took our wall calendar down.

It was crammed with his meetings, his business trips, and his days off.

For two years, I'd arranged my whole life around his free time.

But not anymore. Nathan wasn't worth it.

The next day, Nathan stared at the empty wall, and his face darkened.

"Where's the calendar?"

"I threw it out."

"Why?"

I opened the door and said calmly, "I won't need it anymore."

No one keeps track of a soon-to-be ex-boyfriend's schedule. To me, those pages were nothing but trash now.