Chapter 5

If someone had told me I’d be getting laid that early, I would’ve laughed in their face. Actually, knowing me, I probably already had.

I ended up spending the night at Caleb’s, and, safe to say, he had a lot of energy and experience. Totally not what I’d heard about white boys, but maybe I was just lucky.

When I got home the next morning, I was still standing by the door when I heard voices, Damian and his girlfriend, mid-argument.

“Okay, what do you mean by that? You can’t do long distance anymore?” Damian’s voice carried down the hall.

Uh-oh. That sounded personal. The sane thing would’ve been to mind my business, but sanity wasn’t exactly my strong suit.

“I’m just saying it’s too stressful driving up here almost every day,” his girlfriend said.

“Okay, we can narrow it down to just the weekends, babe. That’s less stressful, right?”

“You know I don’t even like driving, Damian.”

“I know, baby, and I really appreciate what you do for us,” he said, his tone dipping into a plea. “You know if I could, it’d be the other way around.”

If he could? What, he didn’t have a driver’s license or something?

“I know,” she said quietly, “I’m just tired.” Her voice was so low I could barely make out the words.

Silence. For a second, I thought the argument was over. I was about to knock when Damian spoke again, softer this time.

“We can make this work, Anny.”

“How?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Like we always have?”

“Yeah, like I’ve always sacrificed?” she snapped.

“That’s not true. I’ve sacrificed a lot for us, too.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

I heard her footsteps coming closer, then pause, apparently he’d stopped her.

“Don’t leave, Anny. Please, let’s talk about this.”

“Leave me alone, Damian.”

There was a pause, a shift in the air. His next words came slower, heavier. “I don’t know if it’s just in my head, but I don’t think this is about the driving. There’s more to this, isn’t there? So say it. Tell me.”

Her answer came like a knife slipping quietly between ribs. “Fine, Damian. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Oh. My. God.

Silence. Then his voice again, trembling. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

She didn’t reply.

“Damn it, Ann, answer me!” he shouted.

“Yes,” she whisper-yelled, voice breaking.

“I knew it!” Damian’s voice cracked, angry, disbelieving. “Why, Anny?”

“Come on, Damian. Even you’ll agree the only thing connecting us these days is sex.”

“That’s not true, babe. You know I love you.”

“I know,” she said softly, “but not like before. You seem more interested in my body than in me lately.”

“You have a beautiful body,” he said, desperate now. “But that’s not the only thing I love about you. I could start listing, but we’d be here forever.”

Aww, poor guy.

“I’m sorry, Damian, but I just found someone better.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should leave, Ann.”

“I’m sorry, Damian.”

“Leave, Ann,” he whispered fiercely.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, the last thing I heard before the door unlocked.

Oh, great.

“Hi, Ann,” I greeted awkwardly when she stepped out.

She didn’t answer. She just walked past me like I was invisible.

Inside, the apartment was quiet. Damian must’ve already shut himself in. What a graceful morning.

I stepped back into my room, heart hammering a little, hands trembling slightly. Ugh, what a mess. Why did I even linger by the door? I knew I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help it. And now… well, now I knew way more than I wanted to about Damian and Ann.

Poor guy. But… also, not so poor, not really. If Ann had already made up her mind, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it coming. Still, hearing it like that? Brutal. I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. There was that pain in his voice… like he’d been blindsided by something he should’ve seen coming. I mean, I’ve been there before, but somehow it always stings more when it’s someone else’s heartbreak.

And Ann. Damn, she sounded cold. Or maybe just done. I could almost understand it, though. Relationships weren’t easy. Long-distance was brutal, and maybe they had just run out of patience with each other. But the thing that gnawed at me was the way she said, “someone better.” That’s not just ending it, that’s… I don’t know, dismissive. Harsh. It made me think about how messy people could get when emotions and physical attraction didn’t line up with reality.

I shook my head. None of this was my business. I mean, technically, it wasn’t. But the echo of their voices was still in my ears, Damian’s desperate tone and her quiet, resigned answers. There was something intimate about overhearing that, something I probably shouldn’t have experienced. And yet… It made me strangely reflective.

I passed Damien's room on my way from the kitchen, as a loud “Fuck!” rang out, followed by the sound of something crashing against the wall.

I froze. For a full minute, I debated what to do: mind my business, or check on him. Five minutes later, curiosity and guilt won.

I knocked gently. “Damian? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said from the other side.

“You sure? I heard something crash.”

“I said I’m fine!” he shouted.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” I muttered, retreating to my room. So much for being a caring neighbor, but then again, I understood. 

I showered, then went to make myself breakfast. By the time I was done, I’d regained a little peace. I brought my food and water back to my room, ate, and got to work on my assignment, checking my phone now and then to see if Caleb had texted.

Nothing.

He’d dropped me off earlier, promised to call when he got to work, and then radio silence.

Two hours later, my assignment was done. It hadn’t been that hard, more like one of those “get to know your students” tasks professors give before classes start.

I carried my dishes to the kitchen. The place was spotless, like always. I couldn’t tell if Ann had been the tidy one or if Damian was a clean freak; either way, I prayed it remained that way.

There was an orientation camp happening the next day, but I still hadn’t decided if I wanted to go. Sure, it’d be a chance to meet new people, but crowds made me uneasy. Making friends wasn’t my strong suit, and honestly, I didn’t mind it that way.

Classes officially started the following day, and I needed to get myself organized. I had some food stocked in the fridge, but I’d decided to only cook on weekends. I checked my stash of snacks and jotted down a grocery list for the week. My mum had given me some money to use until I could stand on my feet.

After that, I opened my laptop to check emails, mostly LinkedIn notifications, nothing important. I was set to start my online job next week, and I wasn’t about to miss that opportunity. The pay was decent, the schedule flexible. For an international student balancing scholarship pressure and bills, it felt like a small lifeline.

With no new updates, I decided to text Caleb again. Still unread.

I called him. Straight to voicemail.

I told myself not to overthink it; maybe he was busy. Maybe his phone died. But the longer the silence stretched, the heavier it felt.

I sighed and opened one of my novels, trying to lose myself in it. I’d barely gotten through two pages when there was a knock at my door.

For a second, my heart jumped. Maybe Caleb had come by? But no, he didn’t even know my exact apartment.

“Who is it?” I called from my bed.

“Damian,” came the reply.

Of course.

“What do you want?” I asked, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice.

“Can I come in?”

“Just a second,” I said, quickly throwing on something decent before opening the door.

He stepped in, eyes scanning my room. “Your room’s nice. Cozy.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Did you come to admire it?”

He chuckled softly. “No. I wanted to apologize for earlier. I was going through a rough moment, but I’m better now.”

“It’s only been four hours,” I said, raising a brow. “You sure?”

He shrugged. “Not completely fine, but… better.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“For what?”

“I overheard you and Ann.”

“Oh.” He exhaled, running a hand over his hair. “Well… it is what it is.” His voice tried to sound indifferent, but the pain underneath was obvious.

I wasn’t good at comforting people, so I stayed quiet. Sometimes silence was safer than saying something useless.

“Anyway,” he said finally, “I just came to apologize.”

“It’s fine,” I told him honestly. “I’m not mad.”

“Thanks,” he said. Then, after a pause, “I’m about to cook something. Want to join me?”

“You’re cooking?” I asked, suspiciously intrigued.

He grinned. “I’m a badass chef.”

That made me laugh. “Alright then. Lead the way, Chef Damian.”

He chuckled as we walked toward the kitchen. “You’re going to get wrinkles from smiling that hard,” he teased.

“Worth it,” I shot back, and, just like that, the tension between us lifted a little.