Ethan stared at the screen.
【Problem】
His face changed for barely a second.
Then the familiar coldness returned.
—You went through my phone?
I almost laughed.
Not Why did I call you that?
Not I’m sorry.
His first concern was my invasion of his privacy.
—I needed the civil registry confirmation.
Olivia shifted awkwardly beside him.
—Natalie, maybe it was just a joke—
I looked at her.
—Were you part of the joke?
She immediately went quiet.
Ethan took the phone from my hand.
—It’s just a contact name.
—And “My little queen”?
His fingers stopped.
Olivia lowered her eyes.
Ethan sighed.
—She saved herself like that a long time ago.
—On your phone?
Silence.
That was enough.
He helped Olivia toward the guest bedroom.
I watched him.
—What are you doing?
—She can’t go home like this.
I glanced at Olivia’s ankle.
There was no cast.
No splint.
Only a small elastic bandage.
—So she’s sleeping here?
Ethan’s irritation finally surfaced.
—Natalie, it’s two in the morning. Can we discuss this tomorrow?
Tomorrow.
The day we were supposed to get married.
I looked at the clock.
2:14 a.m.
—Sure.
He seemed relieved.
—Good.
He had no idea that there was no wedding tomorrow anymore.
I picked up my laptop and went into the bedroom.
The job offer was still open.
NEW YORK.
Three-year contract.
Double salary.
Executive strategy division.
I had rejected opportunities like it twice because Ethan always said his career couldn’t move.
My career, apparently, could always bend.
I clicked:
ACCEPT OFFER.
Confirmation appeared less than a minute later.
My start date was in three weeks.
I slept better that night than I had in months.
At eight the next morning, Ethan knocked on the bedroom door.
—Get up.
I opened my eyes.
He was already dressed.
Dark suit.
White shirt.
The watch I had given him on our third anniversary.
—Our appointment is at nine thirty.
I sat up.
—No, it isn’t.
He frowned.
—What?
—I canceled it.
At first, he genuinely didn’t understand.
Then his expression hardened.
—Canceled what?
—The marriage registration.
Silence.
He stared at me.
—When?
—11:47 last night.
For the first time in five years, Ethan Fu looked completely unprepared.
—Restore it.
—You can’t.
—Then book another appointment.
—I’m not marrying you.
His face darkened.
—Because of a stupid contact name?
I got out of bed.
—No.
I walked toward the closet and pulled out my suitcase.
—Because for five years, every time I needed you, I was a burden.
I placed clothes inside.
—When Olivia needed you once, you ran across the city.
—She’s alone here.
—So was I.
He stopped speaking.
I continued packing.
—Where are you going?
—New York.
He actually laughed.
—Stop being ridiculous.
I showed him the employment confirmation.
His smile disappeared.
—You accepted this?
—Yes.
—Without discussing it with me?
That question was almost beautiful.
I turned toward him.
—Interesting, isn’t it? Having someone decide their future without considering yours?
His jaw tightened.
—We’re getting married.
—No, Ethan.
I closed the suitcase.
—You were getting married to “Problem.”
I pointed toward the hallway.
—Your little queen is in the guest room.
—Perhaps you should ask her what she wants to do today.
Olivia had apparently heard us.
She appeared at the bedroom door.
—Natalie, don’t leave because of me.
I looked at her.
—I’m not.
Then I looked at Ethan.
—I’m leaving because of him.
That finally hurt him.
He followed me downstairs.
—Natalie, we’ve been together five years.
—Exactly.
—You can’t throw all of that away overnight.
I stopped.
—You didn’t call me “Problem” overnight.
He said nothing.
—You didn’t learn to dismiss me overnight.
Nothing.
—And you didn’t start treating Olivia like the woman who mattered overnight either.
His expression shifted.
—There’s nothing between us.
—Maybe not physically.
I smiled faintly.
—But every time she calls, you choose her.
That was enough.
I left.
Three weeks later, I moved to New York.
Ethan assumed I would return.
At first, his messages were arrogant.
“Have you calmed down yet?”
Then:
“When are you coming home?”
Then:
“I rescheduled the civil registry appointment for next month.”
I replied once.
Cancel it.
A month later, he called.
—Natalie, Olivia doesn’t mean anything to me.
—Then why did you give her everything you refused to give me?
Silence.
—Patience.
Concern.
Tenderness.
Availability.
I listed them slowly.
—Do you understand, Ethan? I wasn’t jealous because you loved another woman.
I paused.
—I left because you showed me exactly how you could have loved me and simply chose not to.
He had no answer.
After that, he stopped calling for almost two months.
Then Olivia contacted me.
Not Ethan.
Her message contained only:
“I think you should know what happened.”
I almost deleted it.
Instead, I opened the attached screenshots.
They were conversations between her and Ethan.
The first was from a year earlier.
Olivia:
“Does Natalie mind that we talk so much?”
Ethan:
“She complains sometimes. She’ll get over it.”
Another:
“What if she leaves?”
Ethan:
“She won’t.”
And another, just three weeks before our canceled wedding:
Olivia:
“If you marry her, will things between us change?”
Ethan:
“Marriage is paperwork. You’re different.”
I stared at that sentence for a long time.
Then I understood why Ethan had been so shocked when I canceled the registration.
He hadn’t believed marriage would secure our relationship.
He believed I was already secured.
My devotion had made him careless.
My forgiveness had made him arrogant.
My five years beside him had convinced him that there would always be a sixth.
Olivia’s final message surprised me.
“I stopped seeing him.”
“He keeps asking me why you left.”
“I told him the truth.”
“He never thought you’d actually do it.”
I replied:
Neither did I. Until I did.
Six months passed.
My life in New York became full.
Not magically perfect.
There were lonely evenings.
Difficult meetings.
A terrible first winter.
But there was also something I hadn’t experienced in years.
Freedom from constantly measuring another person’s mood.
I stopped checking whether Ethan had eaten.
Stopped wondering when he would come home.
Stopped convincing myself that indifference was simply his personality.
Then one Friday evening, I walked out of my office and saw him.
Ethan stood across the street.
No warning.
No message.
He had flown to New York.
He looked thinner.
Tired.
Almost uncertain.
—Natalie.
I stopped several feet away.
—Why are you here?
He swallowed.
—I came to take you home.
I couldn’t help it.
I smiled.
—There is no home for me there.
—Then I’ll move here.
That surprised me.
Five years.
He had refused every relocation.
Now he was offering immediately.
—I’ll leave my position.
I stared at him.
—Why?
His eyes reddened.
—Because I finally understood.
—What?
He took out his phone.
Then showed me my contact.
He had changed the name.
【Natalie】
I almost laughed.
—Is this supposed to fix something?
—No.
His voice broke slightly.
—It’s supposed to show you I know what I did.
I shook my head.
—Ethan, the problem was never what you called me on your phone.
He went still.
—The problem was that you actually believed it.
His hand dropped.
I continued:
—You treated my fear like drama.
My needs like inconvenience.
My love like something guaranteed.
Then Olivia called, and suddenly you were capable of being gentle.
He whispered:
—I was wrong.
—Yes.
—Can you give me another chance?
For five years, I had imagined hearing Ethan Fu ask me that.
I thought it would feel satisfying.
It didn’t.
It just felt late.
I shook my head.
His face collapsed.
—Do you love someone else?
—No.
—Then why can’t we try?
I looked at him for a long moment.
—Because leaving you taught me that being alone hurts less than being lonely beside someone who supposedly loves you.
He couldn’t answer.
I walked past him.
After several steps, Ethan called my name.
I turned once.
He was still standing beneath the streetlights.
—Natalie…
His voice was barely audible.
—Was I really that terrible to you?
I thought about the contact name.
The 24-hour store.
The canceled wedding.
Olivia leaning on his shoulder inside the home where I had expected to become his wife.
Then I gave him the most truthful answer I could.
—No.
He looked confused.
I smiled sadly.
—You were just good enough to someone else that I finally understood how badly you had been treating me.
I turned away.
And this time Ethan Fu didn’t follow.
Years later, I still remember canceling that appointment at 11:47 p.m.
For a long time, I thought that was the moment I lost a marriage.
Now I know better.
It was the moment “Problem” disappeared from Ethan’s phone—and Natalie finally returned to her own life.
