Six years together. He gave me the password to his bank account, let me check his phone whenever I wanted, even gave me the Fox family heirloom jade bracelet.
He gave me everything he could.
Everyone has a past. I told myself that.
So I let it go and pinned all my hopes on our future—a future that belonged to the two of us.
Once, I noticed a drawer left open and saw a Polaroid inside, its edges soft and worn from handling.
In the photo, a younger Curtis wore a white button-down, his arms wrapped around a girl who leaned against his shoulder with easy intimacy.
In the bottom-right corner, someone had written a line in small, careful script.
"May we stay together through every season—Lena"
I looked it up later, in secret. It was a line from an ancient poem.
May I remain by your side even when the world withers around us.
That day, I brought it up as casually as I could.
"Who's Lena? An ex?"
Curtis was holding me from behind. His voice came out low and muffled against my hair.
"Why are you asking about that all of a sudden?"
He didn't confirm it. He didn't deny it either. He just pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"That's all in the past."
Something twisted inside me, but when I looked up and met his gentle gaze, the words died on my tongue.
Some questions you never dare ask—because you're terrified of the answer.
Now the answer had walked right up to me on its own.
All those things he called "the past" had never actually passed.
I fumbled for my phone. The screen flickered to life for a split second, then went black.
Dead.
When your luck runs out, even the universe piles on.
Curtis wasn't home yet when I got back.
I iced my ankle, curled up on the couch, and couldn't summon the energy to move.
He came through the door carrying a small cake, flipped on the light, and paused when he saw me. A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
He set the cake on the table in front of me, crouched down, and ruffled my hair the way he always did.
"Is it cramps? Let me wash up and I'll make you some hot tea."
He was that kind of man—attentive, considerate, always one step ahead.
My mother had adored him. She used to say I could search the whole world and never find someone better.
I'd believed her. I thought I'd found the one.
Now a fog had settled over everything, and I couldn't see which way to go.
I'd just lost my mother. If I lost the man I'd spent six years building a life with, too, I didn't know whether I'd survive it.
While I sat there staring at nothing, Curtis slid the cake closer.
"Have something sweet. It'll help."
He stood, humming to himself as he disappeared into the bathroom.
His phone lit up on the coffee table. Something pulled my hand toward it before I could think.
It was the new contact he'd added today. Her profile picture and his were a matching set.
Back when Curtis and I were in the honeymoon phase, I'd begged him to do matching profile pictures with me.
He indulged me in everything—except that. On this one thing, he wouldn't budge.
"I've had this picture for years. It'd feel weird to change it."
"Besides, it's just a profile picture. It doesn't prove anything."
He was wrong.
A profile picture proved plenty.
At the very least, it proved that in his heart, I had never been his first choice. Just the consolation prize.
"Curtis, thank you for helping me revisit our college memories. The dessert tastes exactly the way it used to. Just like you…"
Every shred of hesitation, every thread of doubt—gone in an instant.
A fine, dense pain spread through my chest, threaded with nausea.
I didn't understand how one heart could hold two people at the same time.
Curtis came out of the bathroom with his hair still damp, steam clinging to his skin.
"What's wrong? Aren't you the one who always says there's nothing a slice of strawberry cake can't fix?"
Just like every other time I was upset, he scooped up a bite of cake and held the spoon to my lips. Tender. Practiced.
I turned my face away.
"Curtis, let's break up."
