On the six-year anniversary of my relationship with my girlfriend, Sheila Loom, I buy some groceries with the intention to surprise her with a home-cooked meal. After I'm done, I head over to Sheila's place right away.

That's when the reel I was watching automatically skips to the next one. It's a live stream where people call in to discuss legal matters.

A familiar feminine voice drifts to my ears at that moment.

"My boyfriend shelled out 500 thousand dollars to put me through school. I've already paid ten thousand back to him.

"At first, I wanted to clear the debt before breaking up with him, but I don't want to wait any longer. If he insists on taking me to court after the breakup, can I still pay the debt off slowly?"

Almost immediately, comments flood into the comments section, chewing her out and calling her a heartless wench.

But the voice replies calmly, "If I truly were heartless, I wouldn't have paid him back to begin with. I no longer have feelings for him. Are you saying that I should sacrifice the rest of my life just so I can pay 500 thousand dollars back to him?"

My heart skips a beat at that moment. It's true that I've spent 500 thousand dollars putting Sheila through school over the years.

But I feel that I'm overthinking it, seeing as she's never brought up the matter of wanting to pay me back before.

After I call Sheila repeatedly for half an hour, she finally answers my latest phone call. At the same time, the woman's phone call that's connected to the live stream is cut off.

"It's my birthday today, Sheila—"

"Have you secretly come looking for me again? Didn't we agree that we'll only meet up after you've successfully gotten into college?"

I don't get to finish the rest of my sentence.

Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of the notebook sitting on the corner of Sheila's table. The first page shows "debt repayment ledger".

Some of the details are as shown.

"The SAT study materials I bought for him: 188 dollars."

"The Uber fees I've paid for him: 35 dollars."

"The cologne I've gifted him on his birthday: 380 dollars."

"Total: ten thousand dollars now paid."

Thinking of the feminine voice from the live stream earlier, my ears buzzed, a sharp, needle-like sensation spreading through them.

Even the cost of condoms was recorded as a 50-50 split in the ledger, as her reimbursements to me.

A sigh echoed through the microphone. "Can't you be a little more ambitious, Ben Hope? Do you really wish to live a life as unremarkable and ordinary as your name?

"I've bought the SAT prep materials for you. I've even highlighted all the important points. If you don't put in the work yourself, the gap between us will only continue to grow!"

My girlfriend, Sheila Loom, had always disliked how plain my name sounded. As such, she rarely called me by my full name, except for when she was particularly angry.

I took a deep breath, trying to sound calm. My voice still shook as I spoke. "Should we add the cost of you highlighting those key points to the ledger as well?"

Sheila seemed momentarily confused. "What do you mean? What ledger?"

She continued, holding back her anger, "That money you've saved up by fixing cars isn't going to be enough for me to marry you, Ben. I have a PhD. My boyfriend should at least have a bachelor's degree."

Just then, Sheila's roommate, Marilyn Rivers, walked into the room. She sized me up from head to toe as I sat there in an apron.

"Sheila's just sent me a text," Marilyn began awkwardly. "She told me not to let you into her room if I ran into you at the door."

A strange wave of shame washed over me. I stood, ready to flee.

The door lock beeped, and the door opened. My heart raced. I thought Sheila had returned.

Marilyn turned to face the visitor, her face lighting up with a smile.

"Are you here to return Sheila's study materials again? We just changed the door code. I didn't think you'd know it."

The man in gold-rimmed glasses replied nonchalantly, "Sheila told me the code as soon as you guys changed it."

I felt slightly at a loss. Earlier, I'd spent a whole hour waiting at the door because I didn't know the code to enter. I'd only managed to get in when I ran into Marilyn on her way back.

I supposed Sheila's so-called boundaries only applied to me.

The man noticed me when he turned around. He scanned me up and down as he asked, "And who might this be? Did you guys hire a cook? I thought Sheila usually cooks for herself."

Marilyn cleared her throat. She muttered awkwardly, "This is Sheila's boyfriend. His name is…"

For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to say my own name as I looked at the other man.

The man visibly stiffened before offering a perfunctory apology. "Oh, sorry. It's just that Sheila never mentioned she was seeing someone. That's why I didn't think about it like that."

He proceeded to pour me a cup of tea as though he was the man of the house.

"My name is Saul Harrison. Our department is having a get-together dinner later. Would you like to join us?"

I pushed the mug away reflexively.

"What's wrong?" Saul asked.

"Sheila is kind of a germaphobe. She never lets anyone drink from her mug."

Saul let out a laugh before picking up Sheila's mug and drinking directly from it.

"No way. I drink from her mug every time I come over. I've even broken a few of them."

I felt a bit dazed. I'd only just begun to realize how much of Saul's traces lingered in this room.

Potted plants sat on the windowsill. Markers of every color were scattered across the desk, along with collectibles lining the bookshelf.

Sheila despised anything that distracted her from her research. Years ago, on her birthday, I'd given her a collectible figurine which she'd tossed into the trash immediately.

"Is this the useless junk you spent all your energy on? I don't want you giving me things like this anymore. Go read a few books and work on improving yourself if you have that much time on your hands," she'd said to me.

That look of deep resentment she had on her face back then was now mirrored in her expression as she rushed home anxiously and pushed the door open.

"Everyone, please leave. I need to speak with Ben alone."

As Saul was about to step out, she grabbed his arm, her tone suddenly softening. "Saul, let's go to the department gathering later together."

Saul nodded calmly. He shot me a half-smile before leaving.

As soon as the door closed, the temperature in the room plummeted dramatically.

"Why is there tea in my mug?"

The wind swept across Sheila's face, lifting her hair in a flattering wave. Her expression, however, remained sour.

She frowned as she stared at the mug. "I don't like it when people use my mug."

I smiled in response. "You just don't like it when I use your mug."

I strode over to the windowsill abruptly, turning my back to her so she couldn't see my grim expression.

"The pothos plant I gave you wilted in three days. You told me you didn't have time to care for it—that's fine. This orchid, though… It's one of the hardest plants to maintain, yet you've kept it blooming beautifully. The soil is still moist too."

I then turned and dumped the markers from her desk onto the floor. "And what about these markers?" I demanded loudly as they clattered on the ground. "Are you, the top student, now using tools meant for underachievers?"

Sheila jumped at my outburst.

She hadn't expected someone like me, who was usually silent and obedient, to go against her like this.

"Those are all gifts from Saul. I couldn't just refuse. He's my advisor's son. I can't afford to offend him."

I held her gaze as she attempted to pull away. I suddenly smiled.

"Is it really because you can't afford to offend him, or do you just like him too much?"

Sheila grew flustered under my intense gaze. Her voice rose abruptly. "That's enough! There is nothing going on between Saul and me. All we ever talk about is experiments and papers. Now, did you come here today to surprise me or pick a fight?"

She yanked open a drawer, pulled out a bottle of men's cologne, and slammed it on the desk.

"I didn't want to get all fancy with this stuff in the first place, but I thought about how hard you've been studying for your SATs. I wanted you to have a nice birthday."

That bottle of cologne, which had already been logged in the ledger, shattered on the desk. It smelled exactly like the one Saul wore.

"Saul recommended this to you, didn't he?" My expression showed no sign of gratitude.

Sheila looked at me with disappointment. "Talking to you is like talking to a wall."

I could no longer hold myself back.

"Sheila Loom!" I shouted. "When you were in college, I was the one who worked at a hot dog stand outside your campus. Then, when you were getting your master's degree, I worked at the auto repair shop next to your university. I don't see you complaining like this back when I was sending you money every month without fail."

Sheila flushed. I knew how much she hated it when I brought this up. It was akin to trampling her pride straight into the dirt.

"Ben Hope, you don't have to keep harping on about how much I owe you. I swear, I will pay back every cent I owe you!"

I looked at the disgust on her face and closed my eyes, finally making my decision about the past six years.

"Let's break up. Don't forget to pay me back for all the money I spent on you."

Sheila could hardly believe her own ears. "You want to break up with me?"

I knew it wasn't that she was unwilling to part ways. She just couldn't accept that I was the one who initiated the breakup.

As I turned to leave, she grabbed my arm instinctively.

Her anger flared as she caught sight of the resolute look on my face. She couldn't bring herself to say anything to try and save the relationship, so she uttered a simple, "Fine."

I wiped my tears and pushed the door open. In the corner of the living room, Saul and Marilyn were deep in conversation.

"If those lads mooning over Sheila at university could see that guy she's dating, they'd probably want her even more."

"How many years do you reckon he spent sucking up to Sheila before he finally got her? You should have seen how ridiculous he looked just now in that apron…"

I no longer needed to hold myself back for Sheila's sake, so I slammed her bedroom door shut with a loud bang.

The pair jumped up from the couch in fright, spilling hot coffee all over the floor.

Saul shook his hand, which had just been scalded by the hot coffee. Feigning ignorance, he asked, "Did you two get into a fight?"

Having heard the commotion, Sheila pushed me aside and rushed over to Saul. Her brows were furrowed as she dragged him toward the bathroom to rinse his scalded hand.

"Why did you slam the door so hard? Can you not be so crude?"

Even though she'd clearly heard what the others had said about me, she remained silent on that front and chose to berate me for being ill-mannered instead.

I was completely disillusioned. I went into the kitchen, boiled some water, and headed straight into the bathroom. Without hesitation, I poured the boiling hot water directly over Sheila's hand.

She jumped. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I'm just giving you a perfectly reasonable excuse to hold his hand," I replied.

After storming out, I immediately messaged a senior colleague in Belton. "I accept your invitation."

The night had grown late. A torrential downpour had begun, rendering me completely drenched. Soaked to the bone, I scrambled under an awning, only to stumble upon Sheila's department's gathering.

Like a masochist, I stared fixedly through the glass window.

Saul held a wine glass aloft. He shielded Sheila, who didn't drink, behind him, boldly fending off every toast that came her way.

Behind him, Sheila gazed at him like he was her hero.

She hated social events like this the most.

Back when I was trying to rent a cheap storefront for an auto repair shop to give her a better life, the landlord insisted on drinking with Sheila at the table. Despite my valiant attempts to drink on her behalf, she kept sulking with her back to me.

"I hate it when you act all humble, drinking on my behalf," she'd said.

I'd assumed it was simply her scholarly pride, but in reality, nothing I ever did was right in her eyes.

The rain had reached a feral intensity by the time the gathering ended. Saul and Sheila stood together at the entrance. Sheila's eyes shone as she reached out and caught the rain in her palm.

"Tell me, Saul, why does a drizzle fall gently while a heavy rain like this hits hard?"

They shared a smile before answering in unison, "Because a drizzle obeys Stokes' law while a heavy rain has a high Reynolds number!"

Sheila danced joyfully in the rain, clad in a white dress. Saul spread his arms to shield her from the rain.

I watched their interaction. I didn't understand what Stokes' law or Reynolds number meant. I had no way of sharing a connection with her on rainy days like this.

All I knew how to do, in moments like these, was stumble in her footsteps—footsteps that never stopped for me to catch up.

I could only ever tilt the umbrella toward her, letting half of my body get completely soaked in the process.

Clearly, we were very different people.

I stood up resolutely, covered in mud. I decided I didn't want to just leave like that. I wanted revenge!

When I reached home after a two-hour walk, Sheila finally called me again.

After I silenced her call, she texted me a simple, "You asked for this."

To her, me breaking up with her must have seemed like a long-overdue pushback after years of submission.

Her call had been an olive branch—one that I ignored.

When Saul walked into the auto repair shop, I was slightly taken aback.

"Check my car out, will you?"

I had no reason to refuse the money he was offering me.

Saul held out his arm and fiddled deliberately with his Cartier watch. "This watch costs just ten thousand dollars, but it was a birthday gift from Sheila. She'd saved up for ages just to get it for me. That's why I always wear it."

My hands stilled above my toolbag as I recalled that ridiculous ten-thousand-dollar entry on the ledger.

"So?"

"So, Sheila is always so generous with me because she knows I'm worth it. Deep down, she knows that she deserves a man like me—someone who can help her secure her future. Her talent and my wealth make us the perfect match, don't you think?"