His words were sharp, relentless, as if the only thing on his mind was the price tag on the dress I'd left in. He didn't ask if I was okay or where I was and I felt my heart sink further. Looking down at the now-dirty hem of the gown, I bit my lip, forcing myself to remain calm. With a bitter laugh, I transferred six thousand—enough to cover any extra damage in case the boutique charged him more. The phone chimed as the transaction went through and almost immediately, Leon stopped calling. My phone fell silent.
In the sudden quiet, I glanced around the room. The walls were filled with photos of us—moments I'd once cherished, each now like a thorn piercing deeper into my heart. Slowly, the adrenaline drained from my body and a throbbing pain radiated from the cut on my foot, now fully registering for the first time.
As the reality set in, I broke down, my sobs echoing through the room. I couldn't understand how we'd come to this—after everything I'd sacrificed, all the love I'd poured into this relationship. I'd bent over backwards for Leon, trying to make his life easier. I'd rented an apartment just five minutes from his office, waking up at dawn to commute two hours to my own job so he could get a little extra sleep each morning. I'd saved every penny to support his passions, even wearing clothes from thrift stores so I could buy him the latest sneakers. I'd let go of my family's support, just to ease the insecurity he felt about my background. And still, none of it was enough. He wanted everything—everything but a life with me.
With a heavy heart, I reached for my phone again and found Leon's number. I called, hoping, desperately, that maybe this time he would answer, that he would care enough to say something more than demands for money. But the line rang until it cut off and I was left with the empty dial tone. My chest felt hollow, but I forced myself to open our chat window and typed a message, each word burning as I wrote.
[Leon, let's break up.]
After sending the message, tears welled up in my eyes. The words of the taxi driver echoed in my mind and a sudden wave of longing for my parents washed over me. I opened my chat with my mom; the last message from her was just a few days ago. She'd brought up, once again, the childhood engagement my grandfather had arranged: