I wasn't picky about the car or the apartment, so both were settled fast. The place I picked came fully furnished—I could move in with nothing but a suitcase.
Once everything was squared away, I took Trudy out for a meal to thank her, then headed back to pack my things.
Trudy didn't feel right about letting me go alone and offered to wait downstairs.
I didn't say no.
I just didn't expect what came next.
The second I walked in,
Cliff was on the couch, face dark as a storm.
“Where have you been? Why haven't you come home in two days?”
That caught me off guard.
I hadn't thought he'd even notice whether I came home or not.
I opened my mouth, about to speak.
Then he kept going：“The dishes are still sitting in the sink—you couldn't be bothered to wash them before you took off? The laundry hamper's overflowing, the trash is rotting in the kitchen, the whole place reeks. What is wrong with you?”
“This isn't your home, so you just don't give a damn, is that it?”
Listening to his furious accusations,
my fingertips trembled.
From the very first day I moved in here, I'd taken on every part of running this home without anyone asking me to. The cooking, the laundry, the cleaning—all me. Even the utility bills were mine to pay.
What right did he have to talk about me like I was worthless?
What right did he have to act like everything I'd done was nothing?
I looked up at him, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.
“Cliff, am I your maid?”
“When you begged me to move in, you said I wouldn't have to lift a finger. You said you'd handle all the housework yourself.”
“But the reality is I've been doing every single thing you promised to do. So what exactly have you done?”
He said he didn't like the smell of cooking oil.
I never once asked him to step into the kitchen.
He said work kept him busy, no time to clean.
I never asked him to help.
Whenever I had a free moment, I cleaned the whole place myself.
I thought he saw it. I thought he noticed.
But now, he just looked at me with undisguised impatience.
“Alexandra handles everything around the house. Keeps the place spotless. And she never once complained about any of it.”
“Tracey, why can't you take a page from her book? Grow up a little. You do one small thing and you won't stop whining about it—who's ever going to want to marry you?”
We'd been together five years.
People around us had asked more than once.
When were we getting married?
Every time that question came up,
I'd look at him without thinking.
I was waiting. Waiting for him to propose, waiting for a future that had me in it.
But he'd just laugh it off.
“No rush. Give it time.”
Six easy words, and the topic drifted right past.
Remembering that,
I pulled my mouth into something that wasn't quite a smile. “Cliff, we're already broken up. What happens to me from now on is none of your business.”
“I came back today to pack. Not to stand here and get lectured.”
His expression shifted once, twice.
Like he'd just heard the most absurd joke of his life.
“Tracey, you're serious?”
“Do you even know what I……”
He didn't finish.
A knock at the door.
Alexandra let herself in with a key, easy as anything.
She smiled. ：“Mr. Harding, weren't you going to be my driving coach? Let's go now before rush hour hits.”
Then she noticed me.
A flicker of something careful crossed her eyes.
“Oh, Ms. Henson, you're back. I won't intrude then. I'll just go practice on my own……”
“Hold on—I'm not letting you go by yourself. I'll come with you.” Cliff said that, then turned to look at me. “Tracey, think hard about this. You move out, don't expect me to beg you to come back.”
“And don't expect me to forgive you or come looking to get back together.”
He turned and left. Alexandra's face broke into a satisfied smile.
“Well, Ms. Henson, we'll be heading out then……”
“Oh, by the way, there's a watermelon I just bought in the fridge. It's really sweet. You should try some.”
Her tone was perfectly casual, as if she were the woman of the house.
And I was just an uninvited guest.
I said nothing. I waited for the door to close behind them, then went back to my room and packed.
By the time Cliff finished whatever he was doing and came home,
building management stopped him on his way in.
“Mr. Harding, Ms. Henson just left the residents' group chat. She said to contact you directly from now on about anything. Could you join the group so we can reach you?”
Cliff froze. The question came out before he could think：“Why did she leave the group chat?”
The building manager looked at him like he'd lost his mind.
“Didn't you two break up? She's not a resident here anymore. Of course she'd leave the chat.”
