Chapter 2
For the entire month, I had been planning my escape, but nothing about how Dylan and I interacted changed.
I still woke up early to make him breakfast, left a light on for him when he worked late, and always told him to come home early whenever he mentioned a business dinner.
He didn't notice anything was off.
Or maybe he didn't care at all.
In his eyes, I was the quiet, obedient one, easy to replace whenever he felt like it.
He never had to know what was going on in my head.
One night, when I was washing dishes in the kitchen, I overheard him talking on the phone in the living room.
"Giselle, don't do this. I know you just got back, and you're still adjusting," he whispered.
His voice was soft and gentle, as if he were coaxing a child.
"Were you upset over there? Did you fight that guy? It's okay. Don't cry," he went on.
I almost dropped the dish in my hand.
He was so anxious just because she was crying.
"I'll come get you, alright? Where are you?" he asked.
I heard him grab his car keys.
"Estrella, I'm heading out. There's an emergency at work," he said.
He didn't even glance back at me.
The door slammed shut behind him with a loud bang.
I stood there, gripping the dishcloth so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
Giselle was back.
She returned sooner than I expected.
Apparently, she had a boyfriend now, one she met while abroad.
Who was he? What did they fight about?
Those questions echoed in my mind, but I pushed them away.
None of it mattered anymore.
What mattered was that she was back, and it was time for me to go.
That night, Dylan came home around 2 a.m.
He reeked of alcohol, and there was an unfamiliar perfume on him, definitely not the one I used.
He quietly slipped into bed, probably thinking I was already asleep.
I kept my eyes shut, not moving at all.
*****
The next morning, I made breakfast as usual and went to wake him up.
He glanced at the oatmeal and bread on the table and suddenly said with a touch of guilt, "Estrella, work was really hectic last night. I got home so late. Hope I didn't wake you."
I smiled and shook my head. "No, I was out cold."
He let out a sigh of relief.
I told myself that this relationship was already over.
*****
Over the next two weeks, Dylan and Giselle stayed in constant contact.
Dylan kept coming up with reasons to be out, such as business trips, dinners, and class reunions.
One time, I deliberately asked him, "Why have you been so busy lately?"
He was stunned for a second before replying calmly, "At the end of the year, work is crazy right now."
I nodded and didn't push further.
He thought I was clueless.
He thought he was covering it up well.
But I saw the message he forgot to delete on his phone. [Giselle, see you at the usual place tonight.]
I found two movie ticket stubs in his suit pocket, not one.
I noticed the new leather bracelet on his wrist, something unique that I'd never seen before.
I saw it all.
I was only waiting for the right moment.
*****
It was Saturday.
Dylan told me something urgent came up at work and he needed to stay for overtime.
I said okay
Once he left, I started packing.
My clothes, makeup, books, and laptop filled two suitcases.
I looked around the place I had called home for two years, and suddenly it felt like a cruel joke.
The curtains in the living room were my choice. I put up the spice rack in the kitchen myself, and we picked out the painting above the headboard together.
Every corner I had invested my heart into would soon be taken over by another woman.
Or maybe she was always the real owner, and I was only a temporary stand-in.
I bent down and shoved my last coat into the suitcase.
My phone buzzed. It was a WhatsApp message from Dylan.
It read: [Got a business dinner tonight. Won't be home to join you.]
I replied: [Okay.]
Then I loaded my suitcases into the car
My new apartment was already cleaned and ready.
Tonight, I'd finally move into my new place.
*****
Dylan came home on Sunday afternoon.
He must've felt guilty, so he brought me a bouquet and a box of chocolates.
"Estrella, I'm sorry for making you put up with me. When things settle down, I'll take you on a trip," he said.
I took the flowers, set them on the table, and looked him in the eye. "Dylan, let's break up."
He froze.
The petals slipped right through his fingers.
"What did you just say?" he asked.
"Let's break up," I repeated. "I took all my things and moved out yesterday."
His face went from shock to panic. "Estrella, there must be a misunderstanding, right? I've just been busy, but—"
"Dylan," I interrupted, "when we started dating two years ago, Giselle had just left the country, right?"
His face dropped instantly.
"H-How did you know?" he asked.
"I also know you went after me because I look a bit like her," I said.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
I went on, "You needed someone to replace her, and I happened to appear."
I smiled, keeping my tone steady. "You made me your backup, and honestly, I didn't mind. But now that she's back, it's time for me to go."
Dylan's lips trembled.
He tried to speak, but no words came out.
Because everything I said was true.
"Estrella, let me explain," he said.
"No need," I said, picking up the keys from the table and handing them to him. "These are yours. Don't contact me again."
I turned and walked toward the door.
He grabbed my wrist from behind. "You can't do this," he said. "We've been together for two years. You can't leave like this."
I turned back, looked at him, and suddenly laughed. "Dylan, when you made me your backup, did you ever think about how I felt?
"When you said behind my back that a backup should know her place, did you ever consider that I might actually hear you?
"When you were sneaking around with Giselle, stringing me along, did you think I'd never leave?"
His grip on my wrist loosened.
His face went ghostly pale.
"Y-You heard that?" he stammered.
I nodded. "That night, I heard every word you said on the balcony."
He slumped onto the couch, as if all the strength had drained from him. "Estrella, I-I didn't mean it that way," he stuttered, his voice dry.
"So, what did you mean?" I shot back. "You meant Giselle was your dream girl, and I was just a placeholder. You meant once she came back, I was supposed to step aside quietly."
He fell silent because he had no way to argue.
"Dylan, in these two years, did you ever really love me? Even for a second?" I asked.
He opened his mouth, but couldn't say "yes."
That last bit of hope I'd been holding onto was completely gone.
"Thanks for your silence," I said and then opened the door. "Goodbye."
As I walked out, I thought it was finally over.
But I underestimated Dylan.
I'd totally underestimated how "smart" he was.