I sat at the table, watching the food grow cold, much like my heart.

Today was my birthday. It was also Leslie Buck's birthday—Katherine White's childhood sweetheart. I unlocked my phone and opened Leslie's social media page. As expected, a new post awaited me.

"Grateful to have you by my side for every birthday. Let's keep our promise to celebrate every one of them together in the future!"

The photo showed two hands forming a heart in front of a cake. One of them was Katherine's. I could tell from the bracelet she wore. It was the one I had given her.

I gave the post a like, then set my phone aside. Without hesitation, I dumped the dishes Katherine liked into the trash and went out to a restaurant to order the food I liked, celebrating my birthday alone.

From now on, I would make sure to enjoy every birthday of mine.

Halfway through my meal, Katherine's call came in. Her voice carried a trace of urgency.

"Grayson, you saw Leslie's post, didn't you?"

"Yep."

"I'll come home after celebrating his birthday. Next year, I'll spend it with you. Don't make a fuss, okay? Be the bigger person."

There was a time when I would have reacted with shouting and tears, but not anymore. I simply replied, "Okay."

The next morning, a little past seven, my phone rang, jolting me awake. It stopped after three rings. I picked it up and saw Katherine's name on the screen.

She had always been too lazy to use her key, so she'd call and let it ring three times as her signal for me to open the door. No matter what I'd been doing, I would always rush to let her in.

But not today. I tossed the phone aside, pulled the blanket over my head, and went back to sleep.

She knew where the spare key was—under the shoe rack by the door.

I had stayed up until three last night packing, and my head still felt heavy. The phone rang a few more times, but I didn't bother to check it.

I didn't know how much time had passed before I heard the sound of someone unlocking the door. The door banged against the wall, and then the bedroom door was flung open.

Katherine's angry voice followed.

"Grayson! Why didn't you open the door for me? I called you so many times! You know I hate using keys!"

I opened my eyes and looked at her without emotion. "I was too tired. I didn't hear it."

Katherine opened her mouth as if to argue but stopped herself. Instead, she said, "I'm starving. Get up and make me some food. I didn't sleep at all last night, so I need to eat before taking a nap."

In the past, I would've jumped out of bed and rushed to the kitchen. But now, I said calmly, "I'm tired too. Go downstairs and buy breakfast yourself."

Katherine's face darkened, but she forced herself to stay composed. "Are you still mad about yesterday? About not spending your birthday with you?"

"No, you're overthinking it," I replied.

She didn't believe me and kept talking. "Leslie is like my brother. His parents passed away early—who else would spend his birthday with him if not me? Don't be so petty. If you keep acting like this, I'll get mad!"

"You're right. It's only natural for you to be there for him. I'm not mad."

Unable to sleep anymore, I got up and went to the bathroom.

Katherine grabbed my hand and, with obvious reluctance, pulled out a red string bracelet from her pocket. "Here. Don't sulk anymore. It's your birthday gift. I chose something red to bring you good luck."

I looked at the cheap red string and the dangling metal charm swaying with her movement. It felt perfunctory.

Then I thought about the expensive watch in Leslie's post, and a bitter smile crept onto my face.

For months, I had assumed her careful saving was to buy me a birthday gift. Turns out, I had been fooling myself.

I glanced down at my wrist, where the watch my mom had sent me a few days ago rested.

"Thanks, but I already have a watch. It's inconvenient to wear both, so you can keep it."

Katherine's expression hardened. "You said you weren't mad. But now you're rejecting my gift? You always used to be happy no matter what I gave you. Are you looking down on me now?"

Her income wasn't high, and the gifts she gave me on my birthdays were always cheap—a few dollars, maybe a few dozen at most. Sometimes, she even forgot to get me anything. I had never minded.

But when her birthday came, I always made sure to prepare a proper gift. Just last week, I gave her a gold necklace.

I was too tired to argue anymore. Without another word, I took the red string bracelet and slipped it into my pocket. "Thanks," I said.

I changed my clothes and opened the door. Katherine's voice called after me, sharp and anxious. "Where are you going?"

"To play basketball with some friends."

Since getting together with Katherine, every spare moment outside work had belonged to her. I shopped with her, entertained her, and took care of her. My time had ceased to be my own.

Not anymore. From now on, I would live for myself.

...

After an exhausting, sweat-drenched game, my friends and I sat on the benches, gulping down water. One of them, half-joking, said, "We thought you'd ditched us for good after getting a girlfriend. We were ready to stop inviting you."

I apologized quickly. "Sorry about that. I won't let it happen again. Call me anytime."

"That's more like it," another one said, grinning. "Come on, let's hit the internet café for a few rounds of games."

Back when I was with Katherine, I never fit in with her social circle. Yet, for her sake, I let my own friendships fade. Day after day, I revolved around her, making her my center. Looking back, it felt ridiculous.

By the time I returned home, it was nearly midnight. I opened the bedroom door and saw Katherine sitting on the bed, her expression tight.

"Grayson, why are you back so late?" she demanded. "I had to order takeout for lunch and dinner. It was awful."

I opened the wardrobe to grab clean clothes. "I ate out too. The food was pretty good, better than cooking at home."

Katherine stared at me, wide-eyed. "You said you would cook every day for me and asked me to avoid takeout because it's unsanitary."

"I was wrong," I replied flatly. "In this world, if you can't cook, you'd better get used to takeout."

I saw anger flicker in her eyes. "You say you're not mad, but you spent all day out without even a text or a call. You didn't come home to cook for me either!"

"I'm not angry," I said. "I was with friends. My phone died, that's all."

Katherine threw back the covers and stormed toward me, grabbing my arm. Her voice turned sharp. "Can't you be more open-minded? I've told you before—Leslie is just like a brother to me! Why are you still hung up on this?"

I pulled my arm free. "I'm not upset. I'm just tired. I'll sleep in the guest room tonight."

Without waiting for her response, I headed to the bathroom to shower. I heard her yelling behind me, but I didn't turn back.

That night, I slept better than I had in months.

Katherine always tossed and turned in her sleep, often kicking the blanket away. When we shared a bed, I barely got any rest, waking up repeatedly to cover her. But that night, alone in bed, I slept soundly.

…

The next morning, I found Katherine sitting on the couch, arms crossed, face dark. She was waiting for me to apologize and coax her back into a good mood.

That was always her pattern. The moment she got upset, I would cave, begging for forgiveness even when I wasn't at fault. Then she'd list out demands, and I would meet them one by one before she reluctantly forgave me.

But I was tired of it.

I ignored her, got ready, and left. I had something important to do that day.

…

I submitted my resignation at work. My manager looked surprised and tried to persuade me to stay, but I was firm.

I had originally taken this job to be closer to Katherine, to take care of her. But that reason no longer mattered.

Last night, I called my parents and told them my decision. I saw tears of joy in my mother's eyes.

My father's health had been declining, and he was struggling to manage our small grocery store on his own. It was time for me to go home.

Though I called it "home," it wasn't some remote village. It was a coastal city, a quiet yet developed third-tier town.

Katherine had always refused to move there. She loved spicy food and insisted she couldn't adjust to the local cuisine. That was why I had left my parents and followed her here to find work.

That evening, I met my friends for dinner and broke the news.

My friends agreed it was the right decision. Parents' health came first.

After a few rounds of drinks, someone finally asked, "What about Katherine? Will she follow you home?"

I fell silent for a moment, then smiled bitterly. "No. We'll probably break up."

I used to think we could build a home here, one day bring my parents over, and make it complete. But that home doesn't exist anymore. The only home I have is the one with my parents, the one that will never abandon me.

When I got back, Katherine was sitting on the couch in a white dress. Her long black hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her makeup was meticulously done. She was holding her phone, video chatting with Leslie.

From the other end of the call, Leslie's voice rang out. "Katherine, you're gorgeous, even in something as plain as a white dress. You look like an angel."

Katherine laughed, covering her face shyly. "Really? You always know what to say."

I stood there quietly. That dress wasn't plain. I had spent an entire month's salary to buy it for her.

When she turned and saw me, her smile vanished. She said into the phone, "I need to head out. I'll be there soon. Grab something to eat first."

Then she gave me a cold glance, stepped past me, and left. Not even a word.

This was her way. Silent treatment. Cold stares. She had used it before whenever it came to Leslie.

Over the years, I had exhausted myself trying to win her back each time. But this time, I didn't feel the panic. Instead, I took the groceries I had brought home and made myself a late-night snack. I hadn't eaten much during drinks with my friends. Now I was hungry.

In the following days, I focused on finishing work, handing over tasks, and packing up my belongings. Bit by bit, my things disappeared from the apartment, yet Katherine didn't seem to notice.

…

Today, she went out again to meet Leslie.

I sat at the dining table, scrolling through my phone as I ate.

Leslie had just posted on social media with the caption: [Whenever I feel lonely, you're always there. Grateful for you!]

In the photo, Katherine and Leslie leaned close, smiling at the camera and forming peace signs with their fingers. Her friends flooded the comments with likes and praise, admiring their bond.

They had always thought Katherine should be with Leslie. Childhood friends. Perfect match. And I was the outsider, the one who came between them.

Looking at the picture, I started to think maybe they were right. They did look more like a couple than we ever did.

In the past, I would've waited for days before gently asking Katherine to keep her distance from Leslie, to avoid misunderstandings. Her friends would mock me, calling me controlling, suffocating her freedom.

Katherine never defended me. Instead, she'd join them in criticizing me. She always wanted more space, more freedom.

She had commented on Leslie's post, too. [You're always there for me too.]

I closed the app without any emotion, stood up, and cleared the table.

Thunder rumbled outside. Rain was coming.

I stepped onto the balcony to bring in the laundry just as raindrops started pounding against the windows.

On rainy nights like this, I used to call Katherine, ask where she was, and rush out with an umbrella to pick her up. Her friends would tease me, saying I fussed over her like a mother, ruining their fun.

This time, I took a shower, got into bed, and scrolled through short videos until I drifted off.

The sound of the door slamming jolted me awake. Katherine stormed into the room, fury written all over her face.

"It's pouring out there! Your girlfriend's still not home, and you're just lying here sleeping? Don't you care at all?!" she yelled.

"If it were one of my friends' boyfriends," she went on, "they'd be calling nonstop, showing up with an umbrella, worried sick. And you?!"