She Loved Her Ex So I Became One

When my girlfriend, Eleanor Reed, received a call from her ex, Jared Campbell, I was driving her to visit her bedridden father at the hospital.

She was wearing her earphones, so I had no idea what Jared had told her. While comforting him, she occasionally glanced at me, looking like she was holding something back.

In the end, she took a deep breath and made up her mind. "Alright, calm down. I'll go to you. It's okay. He'll understand."

After hanging up, Eleanor told me to pull over so she could use the car. Her voice was soft. "Jared isn't doing well. I need to be there for him."

"You'd better think twice," I said flatly.

A trace of impatience appeared on her face. "Jared just lost both his father and grandfather. Can you be more understanding?"

I reminded her again, "And are you sure you want to desert me by the road?"

She became irritated. "Come on, be good. Just get off."

I smiled bitterly. "Fine."

The knot between her brows finally eased. She shifted toward me, probably intending to comfort me, but I immediately hopped out of the car. Her hand froze in midair before retreating.

Eleanor sighed. "Take good care of my father, okay? Try to get on his good side, and you might win his approval soon."

With that, she sped off.

I called a rideshare and went straight back to Eleanor's place to pack up all my things.

I had a small apartment of my own and only stayed here from time to time, so I didn't have much to pack. In no time, I was done.

During the move, I got a call from the hospital. They told me that George Reed's prepaid medical balance had run out and asked me to make another payment.

George was Eleanor's father. He was a regular at the hospital.

Once, I had happened to cover one of his bills, and ever since then, somehow, it had become my responsibility.

Eleanor cared a lot about her pride, so she would never outright refuse to pay me back. But every time, she would round down the amount and then take forever to transfer the money to me.

I gave the hospital Eleanor's number and told them that I was no longer involved with the family in any way. They could call her to collect the payment.

After some thought, I figured I should at least let her know what was going on. I called her, but she didn't answer. A few more attempts later, I realized she had blocked my number.

I still felt it was only right to let her know, so I used another number to text her about the hospital. I also told her we were breaking up.

Whatever happened after that was none of my business.

…

The next morning, I went to the office early to find Eleanor and hand in my resignation.

A few years ago, she had asked me to join her and build the company together. At the same time, she wanted me to work for her as an assistant without any official title or stake in the business.

Her argument was that everything she had was mine anyway. She would give me enough spending money every month, so there was no point worrying about things like shares or job titles.

She also said there was no need to give me a high salary, since that would help me avoid paying too much in taxes.

I was in love with her back then, so I was willing to give up a promising career and join her startup. Even then, something about what she was saying instinctively felt wrong.

I told her seriously, "My salary is payment for my work, and paying taxes is only right. I'm young, and I'm perfectly capable of supporting myself. What am I supposed to make of the money you give me as allowance?

"Besides, if my position isn't official, how am I supposed to do my job properly? What company sends the boss' personal assistant to negotiate deals?

"And how am I supposed to manage my subordinates when I don't even have an official position? You're running a legitimate company, not some shell company or little backyard operations."

Eleanor's expression darkened, but in the end, she gave me a proper position and a salary that matched the job.

She truly did have some talent. Over the past few years, the company had expanded from a single office to a three-floor commercial building in the city's busiest business district.

Soon, though, none of that would have anything to do with me anymore. After breaking up with her, there was no way I could stay at the company.