Some Endings Start with Old Flames

By the time Zeke Jones got home, Thanksgiving was already over. Unlike what I usually did, I didn't head out to the front yard to welcome him home.

"Where are you?" the text from Zeke read.

I munched on my lunch and replied with a brief message that said, "Having lunch at home."

A short while later, he entered the house with his suitcase in tow.

"I'm hungry. Do me a favor and make me some grain bowl with a sunny side up egg," he instructed as he changed into a pair of house slippers.

On any other day, I would've instantly made my way toward the kitchen and cooked for him.

This time, however, I only responded emotionlessly, "I'm already done with my lunch. You can go ahead and order something in."

Zeke shot me a dissatisfied glance. Then, he suppressed his anger and said, "I know you're still mad about Thanksgiving, but I'm actually starving. Now's not the time for you to be kicking up a fuss."

I turned around and smiled at him. "I'm not mad."

He didn't believe me.

"Scarlett doesn't really have any friends or family here in Bergen City. As someone who's based here, I felt obligated to spend Thanksgiving with her and keep her company," he explained.

"Yeah, I know," I replied indifferently.

He stared into my eyes with a piercing gaze, trying to analyze my thoughts and emotions.

Afterward, he looked downward and asked irritably, "Can you not pull something like this? I'm exhausted—I don't want to have an argument with you. Can't you just be more understanding for once?"

"I'm not arguing with you," I explained patiently as I looked at him. "Are you done talking? I'd like to go do the dishes."

Zeke fell silent. He stared at me for a moment before taking out a necklace from his pocket and handing it to me.

While he looked down at me in a condescending manner, he spat coldly, "A present."

The necklace wasn't wrapped up at all. It looked so different from the one Scarlett Reed flaunted on her social media page. Her gift was beautifully wrapped.

There wasn't a single shred of joy on my face.

"Thank you," I said politely.

Subsequently, I didn't offer him any other response.

He looked visibly displeased.

"That's it?" he asked angrily.

"Yeah."

His expression soured before he stretched out his hand toward me.

"Where's my present?" he demanded.

Only just remembering the gift exchange, I said apologetically, "Sorry—it completely slipped my mind. Let me wire you some money so you can buy something for yourself."

Afterward, I picked up my phone and transferred him 100 dollars.

Zeke looked surprised. He probably didn't expect me to forget.

I'd always made it a point to celebrate holidays and milestones with intention. Exchanging gifts during holidays was a tradition of ours.

Throughout the years we'd been together, I kept the tradition alive. I'd always gotten Zeke a gift—even when he'd forgotten to get me something.

The air between us felt extremely awkward. So, I headed toward my closet and got changed.

I was just about to head out the door when Zeke anxiously yelled after me.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm hanging out with my friends," I responded casually.

Subsequently, I ignored his cries and shut the door behind me.

Zeke once told me that he didn't like it when I went out to party. So, ever since I started dating him, I turned down every single one of my friends' invites.

Upset by the fact that I was never allowed to spend a night out with them, my friends eventually decided to stop inviting me to their get-togethers altogether.