The Afterthought Boyfriend

The Afterthought Boyfriend

Adalynn

5.0
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The pen hovered, ready to sign the lease for our new apartment, signaling a huge step forward after seven years with Chloe. This was supposed to be it, our future, a real home we'd finally share. Then, her phone buzzed for the third time in minutes, betraying the familiar source of chaos: Liam. "He needs me," she whispered, already pulling away, leaving me stranded with two unsigned leases and a bewildered agent. My heart sank when I scrolled social media to find Liam's smug selfie with Chloe, her arm around him, captioned "My angel, always there." Her follow-up text wasn't "Are you okay?" but an angry accusation: "Are you trying to make me look bad? I'm dealing with something real here." The supposed "crisis" was a lie, a performance designed to put Liam first, as always. Seven years of always being second, of cancelled plans and hollow apologies, now burned with the bitter truth: he wasn't having a relapse, he was just having my Chloe. Every single time, her excuses and empty promises had left me feeling like an afterthought, my feelings dismissed. How could I have been so foolishly hopeful, clinging to the belief that her fleeting affection was genuine love, not just a desperate cling to a safety net? Then, my boss offered an escape: a lead designer position in San Francisco, a chance for a fresh start. I was done with the lies, the neglect, the constant battle for a love that wasn't truly mine. Looking Chloe in the eye, despite my fever, I declared, "We're over. Your apologies are always too late." This time, I was choosing myself, walking away for good.

Introduction

The pen hovered, ready to sign the lease for our new apartment, signaling a huge step forward after seven years with Chloe.

This was supposed to be it, our future, a real home we'd finally share.

Then, her phone buzzed for the third time in minutes, betraying the familiar source of chaos: Liam.

"He needs me," she whispered, already pulling away, leaving me stranded with two unsigned leases and a bewildered agent.

My heart sank when I scrolled social media to find Liam's smug selfie with Chloe, her arm around him, captioned "My angel, always there."

Her follow-up text wasn't "Are you okay?" but an angry accusation: "Are you trying to make me look bad? I'm dealing with something real here."

The supposed "crisis" was a lie, a performance designed to put Liam first, as always.

Seven years of always being second, of cancelled plans and hollow apologies, now burned with the bitter truth: he wasn't having a relapse, he was just having my Chloe.

Every single time, her excuses and empty promises had left me feeling like an afterthought, my feelings dismissed.

How could I have been so foolishly hopeful, clinging to the belief that her fleeting affection was genuine love, not just a desperate cling to a safety net?

Then, my boss offered an escape: a lead designer position in San Francisco, a chance for a fresh start.

I was done with the lies, the neglect, the constant battle for a love that wasn't truly mine.

Looking Chloe in the eye, despite my fever, I declared, "We're over. Your apologies are always too late."

This time, I was choosing myself, walking away for good.

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Picking Up The Relationship Trash

Picking Up The Relationship Trash

Modern

5.0

"Olivia, we need to break up." I said the words quietly. We were sitting on the couch we' d picked out together two years ago. Instead of concern, she laughed, thinking it was a joke because she forgot almond milk. Then her phone buzzed. It was Liam. Again. "Can we not do this right now? It's Liam. He needs me." It was always Liam. On our anniversary, the night my grandmother died. He always had a crisis only Olivia could solve. He arrived less than twenty minutes later, looking pale and distressed. He saw me, and his voice, laced with fake vulnerability, faltered. "Olivia said you guys were having a talk. I can go if this is a bad time. I just… I had another panic attack." He looked at Olivia, playing the victim, making me the bad guy. I' d seen this a hundred times: the late-night calls, the fabricated emergencies. I felt a snap inside me. "You' re always having a panic attack, Liam," I blurted. "You strategically dismantle. You make sure you are always the priority." Liam recoiled, his face crumbling. Olivia' s face hardened, disappointment aimed squarely at me. "Noah, stop it. You know he struggles. How can you be so cruel?" She moved to Liam' s side, placing a protective arm around him. She was comforting him. From me. My heart dissolved. I was the outsider. "I' m tired of coming in second place to him. I' m tired of being the bad guy for wanting a partner, not a part-time caregiver for your friend." I grabbed my bag. As I walked out, Olivia' s voice, thick with disbelief, followed me. "You' re really leaving? Over this? You' re just going to throw everything away because you' re jealous?" I stopped but didn' t turn. "It was already thrown away, Liv. I' m just the one finally picking up the trash." I closed the door.

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