Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
My boyfriend stormed out again because I got home late from overtime and didn’t scoop the cat’s litter box in time.
This time, I didn’t run after him.
A live-comment overlay flashed across my vision.
[What is the heroine doing? The male lead is right outside the door. He hasn’t even pressed the elevator button—he’s obviously waiting for her to chase after him.]
[He already noticed she was having hypoglycemia just now. If she opens the door, he’ll definitely come right back and cook something for her immediately.]
[He’s just too insecure, that’s why he picked a fight over the litter box! Honestly, all he wants is for her to say “I love you.” A man who’d go through fire for you if you just gave him reassurance—who wouldn’t want that?]
[Hurry up and coax him. He’s practically about to cry.]
[Exactly. He regretted it the second he walked out. He feels awful right now, probably picking at his nails in guilt. Ugh, this is so heartbreaking.]
I was still hesitating, wondering if I should open the door and go after him, when my phone lit up.
Claire Bennett, we’re done.
Move out before I get back.
Something caught hard in my chest. My eyes burned red almost instantly.
Okay.
I put my phone down, wiped my tears away, and went to pull my suitcase out.
[God, the male lead is so bad at this. He clearly wants to come back and comfort her, wants it so badly he can barely stand it, but he just has to act tough and say “break up.” Is this what insecurity looks like?]
[Yeah. His parents divorced when he was little, then both of them remarried right away. He grew up feeling abandoned, and she knows that. So why is she actually packing? Girl, don’t do this. He loves you so much. If you leave, how is he supposed to live?]
[He’s got such a vicious mouth! You can’t believe anything he says when he’s angry. If you open the door right now, he’ll come running back with his tail between his legs. Don’t actually pack, girl. What’s he supposed to do if you leave?]
[There’s no one in this world who loves you more than he does. You were together through high school, then all four years of college. You finally made it to graduation and were almost at the point of getting married. Don’t do this. You’re his whole life. What will he do without you? And what about Mochi?]
I started packing and stopped looking at the scrolling comments.
I couldn’t even remember how many times this had happened.
Every time Evan said we were breaking up, he also told me to move out.
And every time we got back together, he would cling to me, act cute, and tell me he hadn’t meant it.
The first time Evan told me to get out, I’d been terrified.
We were supposed to leave for a trip the next day, so I’d stayed late at the office to finish as much handoff work as I could. That way, once vacation started, we could actually relax and enjoy ourselves.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
But Evan thought me working until after eleven meant I didn’t care about the trip at all.
He didn’t listen when I tried to explain. He didn’t care that I’d gotten home at eleven without even having eaten dinner.
He shoved my suitcase at me and slammed the door in my face.
It didn’t matter how much I explained from the hallway.
I stood outside, hungry, for half the night.
It was winter then. I hadn’t even had time to grab a coat before Evan pushed me out.
I stood there shaking from the cold.
And Evan never came out to check on me. Not once.
If a neighbor hadn’t happened to find me after I passed out from hypoglycemia and banged on the door until Evan came out, no one knew how bad it might have gotten.
That time scared him half to death.
When I woke up, he kept swearing over and over that it would never happen again.
“Claire, I love you.”
“If I say something hurtful when I’m mad, please don’t take it seriously, okay?”
“You know I’m insecure. As long as you give me enough reassurance, I won’t stay angry.”
I believed him.
So after that, no matter how many times we fought, no matter how many times he told me to leave, I kept telling myself it was just something he said in anger.
I knew he was difficult. I knew he was insecure.
So in my life, everything came second to him.
But now, I was really tired.
Eight years.
Eight years of being the one who always lowered my head first. Eight years of being thrown out every time he got angry.
I was really—
tired.
I finished packing fast.
Then I made myself a cup of instant ramen.
Something tugged at my ankle. I looked down and found Mochi winding around my leg.
The moment I crouched, she jumped straight into my arms.
Mochi had originally belonged to one of Evan’s younger juniors from school. The girl had lost interest in less than two weeks. After Evan brought the cat home, somehow Mochi became my responsibility.
Changing the litter. Taking her to get bathed. Vaccinations. Deworming.
All of it was on me.
And if I was ever late once—just once—Evan would look at me with that cold expression and say, “If it weren’t for you liking her, why would I have brought Mochi home in the first place?”
Or, “Claire, when did you get so irresponsible?”
And this time, the reason he’d picked a fight and broken up with me again was because I hadn’t changed Mochi’s litter box in time, and the apartment had started to smell.
While I ate my ramen, I unlocked my phone and saw that his younger junior had posted on social media.
“QAQ, my poor homeless senior. Fine, I guess I’ll take you in for the night. (?>?<?)”
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
The photo showed half of Evan’s face in a bar, a drink in his hand.
At the same time, the live-comment overlay started scrolling across my vision again.
Poor male lead. Look, he’s obviously drunk, but his eyes still keep drifting back to his phone. He’s still thinking about our girl!!
Don’t be mad, girlie. He’s only letting the younger junior stay close to make you jealous. He doesn’t like her at all. She’s just a prop!
Exactly. Didn’t you see the way he’s practically trying to burn a hole through his phone with his eyes? If you text him right now, he’d turn into your sweet little puppy instantly.
Before I could finish reading the comments, a new message came in.
A video from an unknown number.
I tapped it open.
In the video, Evan had his eyes closed, leaning against a woman’s chest.
The woman laughed softly and asked, “Evan, if you crash at my place tonight, do you think your girlfriend’s finally going to dump you?”
He let out a mocking little laugh. “Ignore her for two days and she’ll be begging for me to come back. If I snapped my fingers, she’d crawl right back.”
The woman burst into laughter. “So she’s basically a pathetic simp? The kind you can’t even shake off if you try?”
I stopped breathing.
Then I heard Evan give a low, lazy hum of agreement.
The video ended there.
I stared at the cup of ramen in front of me.
I couldn’t force down another bite.
So that was it.
All the concern I thought was love. All the compromises I told myself were worth making.
In his eyes—and in the eyes of the people around him—
I was just someone he could summon when he wanted and throw away when he didn’t.
A pathetic simp.
I looked down at the ramen again.
It had already gone cold. A slick layer of oil floated on top.
It made me feel sick.
After eight years together, all that relationship amounted to was one small suitcase.
“Mrow. Mrow…”
Mochi seemed to sense something was wrong. He clamped his teeth into the hem of my pants and refused to let go.
I hesitated for a second.
But I’d been the one taking care of him for the past year, and I doubted Evan had any real intention of looking after him himself. So in the end, I took Mochi with me.
By the time I got to the hotel, it was already two in the morning.
The next day, I opened my phone first thing and started looking through rental listings.
In less than an hour, I found a small apartment near the office.
It was cramped, but it was close to work. It would cut nearly an hour off my commute.
When we’d first graduated, we hadn’t lived there.
But Evan loved sleeping in.
Every morning, I could barely drag him out of bed. He’d even been reprimanded twice at work for showing up late. I’d been the one to suggest moving closer to his office.
Back then, I’d thought love could get us through anything.
If it made things easier for Evan, then an extra hour of commuting for me didn’t seem like a big deal at all.
Later, when Evan’s startup took off, the place he bought was still near his office.