Chapter 4

The sky stayed gray all day when we moved.

I stood in the empty living room, watching the packed boxes pile up along the wall, one after another. Faint marks remained on the walls where the picture frames had been taken down, like old scars left behind after a relationship had been ripped apart.

My landlord called. He sounded uncomfortable. "Mr. Smith, Ms. Collins just contacted me. She said you're only throwing a tantrum and asked me not to process your move-out yet."

I slipped the last spare key into an envelope. "Follow the lease."

The landlord hesitated. "She said you'll regret this."

I smiled. "That's what she says."

I hung up.

The doorbell rang. On the security screen, Jeannie stood outside. She was still wearing the black dress from last night, her expression tense and her brows drawn low.

She did not ring again. Instead, she simply lowered her head and texted me.

[Open the door.]

[Don't try to scare me with this moving stunt.]

[Yale, I'm running out of patience.]

I did not reply.

Ten minutes later, another message appeared: [What exactly do you want me to do?]

I stared at the words. Suddenly, I remembered the first time I had given in to her three years ago. Back then, I had asked her the same thing.

"Jeannie, what exactly do you want me to do?"

Her answer had been simple. "Just stop being so sensitive."

Funny how some words always found their way back around. This time, the only thing that changed was the person getting hurt.

By the time the movers arrived, Jeannie was still standing in the hallway.

When the door opened, she did not look at me first. She looked past me into the empty apartment. The shoe cabinet by the entrance was bare, and the coffee table was gone. Even the little pothos plant she had once called tacky was then tucked in my arms.

Her expression finally changed. "You're really doing this?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

She reached for my suitcase. "Where are you going?"

I took half a step back. "That's none of your business."

She clenched her jaw. "Yale, don't push me. I took Marvin home last night. I didn't start another vote with them. What else do you want me to do?"

I looked at her. Apparently, in her world, simply refusing to hurt her anymore was supposed to count as making amends.

I pulled out the old phone from my bag. There was only one screen left open, showing a poll I had just created: [Is Jeannie worth Yale coming back for?]

[Option 1: She's not worth it.]

[Option 2: Yale's not coming back.]

[Votes: 1.]

I chose the second option.

The moment Jeannie read the screen, her face went pale. "Are you seriously this immature?"

"I learned it from you." I held the phone out toward her. "For three years, you let them make 276 choices for you. Jeannie, now it's my turn to choose."

Her voice turned icy. "You wouldn't dare."

I slipped the envelope into her coat pocket. Inside were the keys, the watch she had given me, and the old movie ticket I had torn in half. "I choose to leave you behind."

Jeannie suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Yale!"

The movers stopped by the elevator and looked over awkwardly.

I lowered my eyes to the fingers wrapped around my wrist.

In the past, whenever she held on to me like that, I would always give in. Even when the hurt was still stuck in my throat, even when we were still in the middle of a fight. I would think first about whether maybe, finally, she was willing to keep me.

However, this time, all I felt was how late it was.

I slowly pried her fingers off my wrist. "Don't touch me."

Jeannie froze. Her fingers hung stiffly in the air, as if she were realizing for the first time that I could refuse her too.

The phone lit up with a message from Marvin. He had sent a screenshot of another poll: [Bet on how many days before Yale comes crawling back this time.]

[Three days.]

[One week.]

[Two weeks, tops.]

Marvin's profile picture was sitting beneath 'Three days'.

Jeannie's fingers froze. She instinctively turned off the screen, but it was already too late.

At that moment, the last dull ache in my chest finally settled. I placed the old phone in her palm. "This time, you two can take your time betting. I'm not sticking around to see who wins."