Byron's fingers fly across the controller, eyes glued to the screen where digital soldiers shoot at each other. I'm sitting here in my favorite red lace—the set that used to make him pause mid-game—and he hasn't looked at me once.
"Byron." I lean forward, letting my shirt fall open just enough. "I thought we could take a break?"
"Can't, babe." He doesn't even glance my way.
One year. One entire year of this. I remember when he couldn't keep his hands off me. Now I'm competing with a fucking video game.
I stand up, gathering my dignity along with my clothes. "Right. Of course."
"Where are you going?" He finally looks up, confused. Like he can't comprehend why his girlfriend might leave after being ignored for two hours.
"Home." I pull on my sweater, not bothering to button it properly. "Have fun with your little video game."
"Say, come on." He gets killed in the game—wow, so now I have his full attention. "Don't be like that."
"Like what?" I ask, annoyed.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I'm busy playing."
"Right." The word hangs there for a moment.
I leave without another word, slamming his door harder than necessary. The walk across campus is cold, my unbuttoned sweater doing nothing against the spring chill. People pass by, probably wondering why I look ready to cry or commit murder.
When I reach my apartment, the warm glow from the living room window tells me Mina and Chloe are home. Thank heavens. I need my girls.
"Saylor?" Mina calls as I come in. "That was quick—oh shit."
She takes one look at my face and immediately grabs the emergency wine from the fridge. Chloe pauses whatever they're watching and makes room on the couch.
"Did he…" Chloe trails off, eyes wide.
"No, nothing like that." I collapse between them, accepting the oversized glass of pinot Mina hands me. "He just…didn't want me. Again."
"Fuck him," Mina says immediately.
"That's the problem. He won't let me." I take a long drink, feeling the alcohol burn down my throat. "I put on the red set. The one that he likes. And he didn't even look away from his stupid game."
Chloe wraps an arm around me. "You deserve better than someone who makes you feel unwanted."
"I know." The tears I've been holding back finally spill over. "But we've been together so long. Everyone expects us to last. Breaking up would be this huge thing and I just…I don't know if I'm ready."
"Screw what everyone else expects," Mina says.
"Yeah, screw them. What do you want?" Chloe asks.
I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. "I want him to look at me like he used to. Like I'm the most important thing in the room. Not his backup plan when the gaming servers are down."
"Has he always been like this?" Chloe asks gently.
"No. Or maybe yes, but I didn't notice because I was too caught up in being his girlfriend. I cared more about what he thought of me than what I thought of him."
The girls are staring at the ground, thinking that one through.
"Damn, that's a good realization," Mina says deep in thought.
I drain my glass and hold it out for more. "Remember last year? When we could not keep our hands off each other?"
"Yeah, you were like obsessed with him," Mina laughs, refilling my wine. "Always disappearing during parties, showing up with your hair all messed up."
"Now the only thing that gets messed up is my self-esteem." I sink deeper into the couch. "I can't remember the last time we had real sex, not the five-minute 'let's get this over with' kind."
"You need to talk to him," Chloe says. Always the sensible one.
"I've tried! He just says I'm overreacting. That I knew gaming was important to him when we started dating." I pull a throw pillow to my chest. "Which is true, but it wasn't his entire personality back then."
"What about counseling?" Chloe suggests.
Mina snorts.
I chuckle. "What would I say? My college boyfriend missed our anniversary dinner last year to play Fortnite? That's so embarrassing." My voice went embarrassingly low trying to mock my own feelings.
"Saylor," Mina turns to face me fully. "You're smart, gorgeous, and way too good for someone who puts video games before you. If he can't see the catch that you are, it's his loss."
"But what if I'm just not trying hard enough? Maybe if I—"
"No." Chloe cuts me off. "Don't blame yourself for his inability to be a decent boyfriend."
The tears start again. "I just feel so stupid. Like I've wasted this entire past year on someone who stopped caring ages ago, but I was too blind to see it."
"You're not stupid," Mina says firmly. "You're loyal and a romantic. There's a difference."
We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound my occasional sniffle. Then my phone buzzes.
"Don't answer," Mina warns.
But I'm already opening Byron's message.
Game's over. Want to come back?
No apology. No acknowledgment of why I left. Just assuming I'll run back when he's ready for me.
"What did he say?" Chloe asks.
I show them the screen, and Mina's face darkens.
"Tell him to go fuck himself."
Instead, I type. No thanks. Busy with the girls.
His response is immediate. K. See you tomorrow.
"That's it?" Chloe's voice rises. "Not even a 'sorry I ignored you' or 'let's talk about this'?"
"That's pretty selfish of him, Saylor."
I toss my phone aside. "Welcome to my relationship."
"You know what you need?" Mina stands up. "Ice cream and a plan."
"A plan for what?"
"For how you're going to dump his ass and reclaim your life." She heads to the kitchen. "I'm thinking Rocky Road for the ice cream."
I laugh despite myself. "You just want ice cream."
"No, I want you to break up with him." She returns with a tub of Rocky Road she apparently already had stored in the freezer and three spoons. "But seriously, Saylor. How much longer are you going to let him make you feel like this?"
I dig into the chocolate ice cream, considering. "I don't know. Part of me keeps hoping he'll wake up one day and remember why he fell for me in the first place."
"And the other part?" Chloe prompts.
"The other part knows I'm just scared to be alone. To start over." I take another spoonful. "What if no one else wants me?"
"Are you kidding?" Mina waves her spoon at me. "You could have any guy on campus. Remember last week when that grad student asked for your number at the library?"
"He was just being nice."
"He walked into a bookshelf staring at you," Chloe points out. "That's not nice, that's smitten."
"Still." I shake my head. "Breaking up with Byron would be this whole thing. I just thought––"
"Screw what you thought would happen because this is the reality, Saylor," Mina says. "What do you want?"
What do I want? I want to feel desired again. Wanted. Important. I want someone who chooses me over a video game, who notices when I dress up, who touches me like they can't get enough.
"I want to be happy," I finally say.
"And Byron makes you happy?" Chloe asks softly.
The silence that follows is answer enough.
My phone shows no new notifications when I wake up. No good morning text. No apology. Nothing.
For a while, Byron used to send me something every morning––a heart emoji, a stupid meme, even just "hey." The messages stopped being consistent two months ago. I realize now that's when it really ended.
I remember the exact moment. We were at a brewery for Trivia Night. Byron was texting under the table instead of helping with answers. When I asked who he was talking to, he just said, "the guys" and put his phone face-down on the table. He'd never done that before.
That was it. The moment I knew but refused to see that him and I were already going separate ways.
The shower runs cold before I fully process this. I step out, wrapping myself in a towel, and find Mina already at the bathroom door with coffee.
"You look like you've had an epiphany," she says, handing me the mug.
"Two months ago. Trivia Night." I take a sip. "That's when Byron checked out of our relationship."
Chloe appears behind her, hair in a messy bun. "You're just realizing this now?"
"I knew. I just…didn't want to know." I grab my robe from the hook. "No texts from him this morning."
"Because he's a dickhead," Mina states matter-of-factly.
I follow them to the kitchen, where Chloe's already making toast. My stomach churns at the thought of food.
"You need to eat before Stats," Chloe insists, sliding a plate toward me.
"Byron's in Stats." The toast suddenly looks even less appetizing.
"All the more reason to eat and have your energy when you dump his ass," Mina says, already heading to my closet. "I'm thinking the blue dress that makes your legs look incredible."
"I can't break up with him in Stats class."
"Why not?" Chloe asks. "It's not like he deserves a fancy breakup dinner."
I nibble the toast, trying to settle my stomach. "I'm not ready."
Mina returns with the dress and my favorite boots. "You were ready two months ago. You're just scared."
She's right. I slip into the dress, letting her fix my hair while Chloe does my makeup. By the time they're done, I look like someone who has their shit together. If only I felt that way.
The walk to class feels like a death march. My heart pounds as I enter the lecture hall. Byron's already there, lounging in his usual seat, scrolling through his phone.
He looks up when I approach. "Hey."
"Hey." I sit down, leaving more space between us than usual.
"Listen, about last night—"
"Don't." I pull out my notebook. "Let's just get through class."
He's quiet for a moment, then he says, "I should've mentioned it last night, but you need to lay off Cade."
My head snaps up. "Excuse me?"
"Yesterday in the quad. You were pretty harsh." He doesn't look at me, focusing on his phone again. "He's going through a lot right now."
"Going through a lot?" My voice rises slightly. "He cheated on Hannah. And he has the audacity to be pissed she accidentally slept with his brother? It was an accident that she made very clear and apologized for. She even broke up with him because of it…like out of respect, but what Cade did was not an accident! He's a self-serving asshole, and I don't know why you're friends with someone like him."
"You have a way of twisting things, Saylor. That's not how it went down," Cade says like he is unamused. What the hell?
"Oh really? Because that's what Hannah told everyone, that's what you told me, and it's what he's been saying this whole time."
Byron sighs, finally putting his phone down. "Saylor… His girlfriend snuck into his room where Sanderson was coincidentally staying the night for some fucking bizarre reason, and his girlfriend fucked his brother. And you know that they're together now? They. Are. Together. It's beyond fucked up."
I shake my head, not giving a shit about Cade and his drama. "So, what? She was with the wrong brother, but she's happy now. Sanderson is happy, so just let them be. I don't understand the big deal. Why is he signing up for hockey and talking about making amends with his mom? He's––"
Byron almost laughs. "Why the fuck do you care so much about what Cade is doing? He's mad! He has a right to be fucking mad, Saylor. He can handle his shit however he decides to. And you know what, you've been treating him like shit since you've known him." His voice is sharp now. "It's time for you stop being a bitch to him and get the fuck over it. He's one of my best friends."
The words sting, even though Mina and Chloe are in the back of mind, reminding me that I should be breaking up with him. "Don't. Don't call me a bitch! I can't believe you think that asshole deserves to be mad when he's the real cheater in the situation. He doesn't have a right to be mad, Byron. So, you approve of him cheating?"
"What do you want me to say? He's my friend. And you pick fights with him constantly. It's annoying as hell."
"Then maybe you should choose between us." The words are out before I can stop them. This is actually perfect. I'm tired of him, and I'm so fucking over his best friend's drama.
Byron stares at me. "Are you serious right now?"
"I am dead serious. If I'm so annoying, if defending your precious best friend is more important than how I feel—"
"This is exactly what I'm talking about!" He throws his hands up. "Everything becomes drama with you. Can't you just be cool for one second?"
The professor enters, saving us from further argument. I pick up my things and walk to the other side of the room. He doesn't reach for my hand, doesn't ask me to stay, and he doesn't even look at me.
So, fuck this.
This is the moment when I finally check out too.
The second class ends, I gather my things quickly, but Byron is already at my side.
"Saylor—"
"No." I pull away. "Just…don't."
I rush out before he can see the tears forming in my eyes.
Art History lectures usually calm me down. The professor's voice has a soothing quality, and normally I'd be taking detailed notes about Impressionist techniques. Today, I can barely focus on the slides of Monet's water lilies.
My phone burns a hole in my bag.
I know what I need to do.
Twenty minutes into class, while the professor discusses brushstrokes, I pull out my phone under my desk. My fingers hover over the keyboard for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds.
We need to talk. I'm done. This isn't working anymore.
Delete.
Byron, I can't do this anymore. We're over.
Delete.
You called me a bitch for disliking someone who cheats. You defend him over me. We're done.
My thumb hovers over send. Just do it, Saylor. Rip off the band-aid.
I hit send and immediately turn my phone face-down, shoving it back in my bag. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure the girl next to me can hear it.
The rest of the lecture passes in a blur. I catch fragments about light and shadow, about capturing moments in time. Ironic, considering I just ended the past year of moments with a text message.
When class ends, I take my time packing up. Other students file out, chatting about weekend plans. Normal people having normal days. Not people who just nuked their relationship via text.
Outside, I find a bench in the courtyard and finally check my phone. Seven messages from Byron.
What? Saylor, come on.
Can we talk about this?
You're seriously breaking up with me over TEXT?
Because I defended my friend?
This is bullshit.
Call me.
I stare at the screen until the words blur. No tears come. Just a hollow feeling in my chest, like someone scooped out my insides and left me empty.
My fingers move on autopilot: Yes, I'm seriously breaking up with you over text. You said I was a bitch for having an opinion. You defend someone who is a cheater instead of trying to understand where I'm coming from. You haven't touched me in weeks. You choose video games over me. This has been over for months, but I'm just now admitting it.
Send.
His response is immediate. So that's it? One year and you're throwing it away because of Cade?
I almost laugh. Of course, he thinks this is about Cade. Not about the ignored texts, the forgotten dates, the way he looks through me instead of at me.
This isn't about Cade. This is about us. Or the lack of us. I'm done pretending everything's fine.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Fine. If that's what you want.
That's it. One year reduced to "Fine."
I should cry. Should feel something more than this numbness spreading through my chest. But all I feel is…relieved. Like I've been holding my breath for months and can finally exhale.
The worst part? He doesn't even fight for me. Doesn't try to understand. Just accepts it like I've cancelled dinner plans, not ended our entire relationship.
If he supports Cade's cheating ass, then I can't be with him. Byron's reaction today showed me where his priorities lie. Not with me. Never with me anymore.
My phone buzzes again. Not Byron this time, but Mina.
Did you do it?
Yeah. It's done.
Good. Wine and pizza tonight. My treat.
No wine. Just pizza. And maybe ice cream.
Done. Love you. Proud of you.
I pocket my phone and head toward my next class. Business Law with Professor Hendricks. No Byron in this one, thank God.
As I walk, I catch my reflection in the library windows. The blue dress Mina picked out makes me look put together, confident. Nothing like someone who just broke up with her boyfriend. A nagging feeling deep in my gut says that maybe Byron didn't take me seriously over text. We were such a comfort couple that I don't think he's taking this seriously at all.
I pull out my phone and type out a last message to Byron.
This is my last text to you. Bye, Byron.
Our tiny kitchen is a disaster zone. Flour dusts every surface, even in Chloe's hair. We're attempting homemade cookie ice cream sandwiches––emphasis on attempting.
"These are definitely not Instagram worthy," I say, pressing vanilla ice cream between two lumpy chocolate chip cookies.
"They taste good though." Mina licks melted ice cream off her fingers. "That's what matters."
We carry our creations to the living room, where 10 Things I Hate About You plays on TV. Mina's phone keeps lighting up on the coffee table.
"Jake again?" Chloe asks, taking a massive bite of her sandwich.
"Yeah." Mina grabs her phone. "The hockey team's having a party this weekend. We should go."
I consider this for a moment. A party sounds exactly like what I need. Dancing, drinks, music loud enough to drown out my thoughts. When was the last time I went out just to have fun? Without worrying about getting home early for Byron or checking my phone every five minutes?
"I'm in," I say, surprising myself with how quickly I agree.
Mina's eyes light up. "Really? That was easier than I expected."
"Why wouldn't I be down to go?" I shrug, taking another bite of my melting creation. "I'm single. There'll be free drinks, good music, hot guys in hockey jerseys. What's not to love?"
The truth settles in my chest like warmth. I want this. Want to laugh too loud, dance badly, maybe flirt with someone new. Not to get over Byron but to remember what it feels like to be just Saylor. Not someone's girlfriend. Not the girl who has to make excuses for why her boyfriend never shows up to things.
"Will you stay with us the whole night?" I ask Mina. "Not disappear with Jake the second we get there?"
She holds up her pinky. "Promise. No ditching for at least two hours."
"Two hours?" Chloe laughs. "That's your limit?"
"Have you seen Jake without his shirt?" Mina fans herself. "Two hours is generous."
I link my pinky with hers, laughing. She's starstruck with her new boyfriend. They've only been together for a few weeks, so I give her a knowing smile. Saturday night with my girls, no pressure, no expectations, sounds perfect. Just us being young and stupid and free. I am so excited now.
Byron won't be there––hockey parties aren't his scene. He will come up with any excuse to avoid anything that isn't his computer screen. For once, I'm grateful for his antisocial tendencies.
"What should we wear?" Chloe asks, already overthinking.
"Something hot," I declare. "Something that screams 'I'm single and ready to make questionable decisions.'"
They both laugh, and I join in, the sound filling our small apartment. This is what I've been missing. Not the lack of relationship I had, the constant wondering if I'm enough, or hearing about Cade's drama nonstop. Just this––my friends, movies, and the promise of a good time.
Ice cream drips down my hand as I take another bite. The cookies are too soft and the ice cream's already melting, but somehow, it's perfect. No Byron texting me about hanging out and doing absolutely nothing. No pressure to be a perfect girlfriend.
"Saturday night?" I confirm.
"Saturday night," they chorus back.
We turn our attention back to Heath Ledger's grand gesture on screen, each of us quietly plotting our outfits for the party.