Ten Years of Wrong Love, I Begged Him to Leave

This year on Valentine’s Day, after much persuasion, I finally got Cole to take me to that trendy couples’ restaurant everyone raved about.

Just as we sat down and started to order, Nadia’s call came through.

“Cut it out; you’re more sensible than she is. I’ll be back soon.”

With those words, Cole left.

I waited until the restaurant closed, but he never returned.

That’s it, I’ve had enough.

Waiting for someone who never shows up is futile.

Cole, I’m done. I’m begging you to leave.

——

The restaurant truly lived up to its viral fame.

Both the ambiance and the food justified the effort I put into snagging a reservation after several late nights.

But now, even the tastiest food seemed flavorless.

Because of the Valentine’s Daythemed event, the place was packed with couples.

Despite their varied ages and appearances, all guests wore happiness on their faces.

There I was, dining alone, an anomaly in this setting.

I kept my head down, scrolling through my phone to hide my discomfort.

That was when I saw Nadia’s latest post on social media.

[Never learned to grow up, but luckily, there’s always someone to tolerate my whims.]

The post included two pictures of Cole and her – one from their graduation, and another apparently taken today.

Good for them.

What a Perfect match.

Truly deserving of their college’s golden boy and girl title.

Cole, I thought I could wait for you.

I’m sorry. I was deluding myself.

I turned off my phone, stuffed the last piece of nowcold steak into my mouth, and left.

[100 people ahead of you, estimated wait time: 30 minutes.]

True to form, getting a cab downtown on Valentine’s Day was next to impossible.

Even the cab app honestly told you how long you’d have to wait.

But Cole couldn’t manage that.

He’d give you hope, telling you to wait for him.

But he never said how long.

Like today, I waited until eleven, until the restaurant closed, and Cole still hadn’t come back.

Yet he kindly sent a message, telling me to take a cab home.

He even remembered to remind me to let him know once I was home.

And of course, there were those neverforgotten explanations and justifications.

[Nadia’s not feeling well. I had to take her home to be sure.]

[Take care and try to get some sleep early.]

He was not unaware of the dangers a girl would face taking a cab alone at night.

But while he could escort Nadia, he couldn’t do the same for me.

Because I was more sensible than Nadia, as he said.

Cole always said what he loved most about me was my sensibility and compliance.

Whenever he mentioned this, he’d always add, “Not like Nadia, who’s been spoiled from a young age.”

But Cole was wrong.

Sensibility isn’t innate.

Even the most sensible people wouldn’t want to be sensible forever.

He might not realize, but what I hated most was when he said, “You’re more compliant than Nadia; you’re more sensible than her; you’re better than her.”

But I never wanted to be compared to Nadia.

Comparison meant he was judging, choosing, weighing me against Nadia.

Even though he always concluded that I was better, his choice had never been me.

I finally got a cab.

Watching the city’s neon lights blur past, I suddenly realized that I’d become numb to Nadia.

The biggest fights between me and Cole were always about her.

But lately, it’d been calm for months.

I didn’t know when it started, but I stopped minding Nadia’s presence.

Like today, I could calmly accept Cole’s sudden departure.

Even seeing that social media post didn’t stir much emotion.

Is this what moving on feels like?

I picked up my phone and sent a message to Cole.

[I don’t want to be sensible anymore. Cole, let’s break up.]

He didn’t reply by the time I got off the cab.

I scoffed to myself.

Of course, with Nadia by his side, he wouldn’t have the bandwidth to respond to me.

Back home, as I put down my bag, the gift box fell out.

It was a DVD.

Inside was a video of Cole promising to marry me in ten years.

Today was also our tenyear anniversary.

I tossed the DVD into the trash.

An ungiven gift holds no meaning.

Looking around, this socalled “home” barely had any trace of me.

We bought this apartment the year before last.

Back then, Cole’s studio was still small, strapped for cash.

The decor was as minimal as possible.

But Cole, ever the designer, still handed me a bunch of blueprints, demanding design flair.

But he was already exhausted from work.

I had no choice but to take over the decorating.

Following his designs, while trying not to go over budget, I ran around to save money.

I visited several furniture stores to find a sofa discounted by 2,000 bucks.

Wherever possible, I bought furniture and decorations online, or did it myself.

After half a year, the apartment was finally ready.

On the day we moved in, Cole invited Nadia over for dinner.

I was happy because it meant inviting Nadia over for dinner at the home Cole and I shared.

I was the host; she was the guest.

But what I didn’t expect was Nadia’s first comment upon entering:

“Cole, this cabinet’s design is all wrong. I’ve seen the original designer’s work. The height of your cabinet is clearly incorrect. Why would you use such a cabinet? It’s so tacky.”

I was flustered, looking at the storage cabinet that took me two days to assemble.

Indeed, it was bought online.

Many were of the same design; I didn’t realize it was a knockoff.

Cole took Nadia’s bag and said, “Her taste is lacking; it’s normal for her decorations to be tacky.”

Yes, my aesthetic sense was no match for Nadia, who had won design awards.

All I knew was that this taller cabinet made it easier for Cole, who often suffered from back pain, to store things.

Later, that cabinet was moved to a corner. Covered in dust.

Like me, staying in Cole’s house, forever relegated to a corner, dusty and forgotten.

After packing, I realized I only had a suitcase’s worth of clothes, even less than when I moved out after college graduation.

Checking my phone, I saw it was already past midnight.

Cole still hadn’t returned.

No messages either.

It dawned on me that what I thought was a shared journey with Cole was really just me going it alone.

He didn’t care at all.

That was not what he wanted, either.

Dragging my suitcase downstairs to catch a cab, I realized I had nowhere to go.

Hesitating whether to go back up, I suddenly saw Cole.

He wasn’t alone, was he?

The dim lights in the neighborhood were faint, but I could see two figures entering the elevator.

At this hour, it had to be Nadia.

Checking my phone again, sure enough, Cole had replied, “I’m tired. I don’t want to argue today.”

That was it.

Just those two sentences.

Any thought of staying another night vanished.

I wandered around the building with my suitcase.

After about ten minutes, the security guard came up with a flashlight.

“Ms. Nolan, did you forget your keys? Why not have family pick you up? It’s not safe here at this hour.”

Even the security guard cared about my safety, unlike Cole.

I truly had nowhere to go.

After college, I turned down a great job offer in Atlanta to follow Cole to a completely unfamiliar place, Denver.

Over time, I lost contact with friends from back then.

Tears started to flow uncontrollably.

I wasn’t crying because Cole was terrible, but for myself.

For knowing it was wrong but not having the courage to leave him.

Everyone had warned me not to be the rebound.

Cole and Nadia’s story was wellknown.

But I was naive.

I thought I could wait.

I believed that longterm companionship could outweigh youthful affection.

I believed that by staying by Cole’s side, he would eventually see me.

For ten years, I helped him move past Nadia’s sudden departure, mend his family relationships, and build his design studio from the ground up.

Now, Cole was a successful young founder of a design studio, and I was supposed to be Mrs. Arnold, his soontobe wife.

I looked up at what was supposed to be my home as the lights dimmed.

It was like waking from a dream.

What’s not meant for me would never be mine.

Just as I was about to book a nearby hotel, a few messages suddenly popped up on my phone.

[Summer, I know it’s rude to disturb you and Cole on Valentine’s Day. You two must be cozying up at home right now. I don’t expect you to come see me. But can you recommend some good places to eat in Denver? I’m here on a business trip.]

It was my best friend from college, Claire, who had vehemently advised me against being with Cole.

Her fiery temper even led her to say, “If you’re with him, we can’t be friends.”

I found it strange back then.

What’s so abnormal about dating?

She threatened to cut ties over it?

Though she said that, her sharp tongue belied a tender heart, and she never really cut ties.

We kept up with each other’s lives through social media and exchanged holiday greetings.

I wiped my tears and messaged her:

[Can I stay with you tonight?]

With that, she exploded.

[What’s up. Did you argue with Cole? I told you he was no good. Come on, take a cab to the Regal Hotel. I’ll come down to meet you.”

As soon as we met, Claire immediately started giving me an earful.

“Where’s Cole, letting you drag your suitcase around alone at night?

“Didn’t you say you guys were getting married this year? Why didn’t I see any photos from you on Valentine’s Day?

“I’ve told you before, I have a good eye for people, and Cole, he’s just not reliable. But you’re still chasing after him, you…”

She was right.

Seeing my tearstreaked face about to break down again, she finally stopped scolding Cole.

She gave me a big hug, but not before playfully pinching my waist and bursting into laughter.

“Summer, you’ve gained weight!”

“No, I haven’t!”

Although I protested, I knew it was true.

These past few years, I hadn’t worked, staying home every day, interacting with few people other than Cole.

Claire, in contrast, looked even better than she did in college.

She was constantly meeting clients, running around, and yet still made time for the gym and Pilates.

Now a senior executive at a major company, she radiated confidence.

I couldn’t help but envy her.

When I woke up again, it was already noon the next day.

Claire had spent the night railing against Cole, and now she had gone to work.

Looking at the dozen unanswered calls from Cole on my phone, I sighed and dialed back.

It took a while, but he finally answered.

“Where are you, my mom’s coming tonight, I’ll come pick you up.”

I was speechless.

Was he pretending nothing had happened?

Did he just ignore the breakup message I sent yesterday, or did he not get the hint?

I thought he was calling to explain, but instead, he wanted me to accompany his mom.

“Summer, can you hear me? Where are you? I can come pick you up now.”

“Cole, we’re broken up.”

There was silence for several seconds.

“Just because I didn’t have dinner with you yesterday? Didn’t I tell you, Nadia was unwell. I had to take her home. That’s why I was delayed.”

“Yes, I know.”

“If it’s about Nadia, you know, she’s the face of the studio, we can’t land those big contracts without her.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Summer, I’ve told you, don’t threaten a breakup just to get attention.”

“No, I’m not just looking for attention. I’m serious about breaking up.”

My unexpectedly calm tone seemed to surprise Cole.

He softened.

“Stop it. I know you’re the most sensible. How about we go to that restaurant after I send my mom off tonight?”

“Cole, let Nadia accompany your mom, since she’s always been the one she thought more suitable for you.”

I didn’t wait for his reply and hung up.

Claire, who had returned at some point, looked at me with an expression that said “you finally got it”.

Looking at each other, both with dark circles under our eyes, we shared a laugh.

Claire wrapped her arm around me, beginning to plan my newfound single life.

“Class reunion, want to go?”

I hesitated.

I hadn’t progressed in life these past years and was afraid to face my old classmates. Seeing my hesitation, Claire started to brainwash me.

After an hour of persuasive talk, I nodded.

“Summer, you might not know this,” Claire chuckled, giving me a playful poke in the waist. “Jason Clark, remember him? Almost your boyfriend back in the day? He just asked me if you were going.”