Chapter 4
"I'm hungry. Make me something to eat. And cook an extra portion of seafood chowder. Josh wants some. I'll bring it over to him later," Shirley demanded.
"Hey! Are you deaf?"
I hadn't slept all night, got soaked in the rain, and my head was spinning. My patience had run out, and I snapped, "Are you out of your mind? We already broke up! You don't get to order me around."
Shirley stared at me in disbelief. "What did you say? You're breaking up with me?"
"Yeah. I told you yesterday. Who's the deaf one now?"
Shirley reacted as if I had just told the funniest joke on earth. She actually started laughing, eyes watering. "Chester, did I hear that right? You're breaking up with me? How many days—no, hours—until you come crawling back? I hope you can at least hold out for 24 hours."
I looked at her calmly. I didn't even blame her for reacting this way. Because of Joshua, I had broken up with Shirley several times before. But a few hours later, I'd always pathetically apologize to her and beg her to take me back.
Shirley stopped paying attention to me and went straight into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. I pulled out my phone and started searching for short-term rentals near my office.
Peter informed me before leaving work that day that my transfer order would arrive the next day, but the official reassignment would depend on the branch office. It would probably take about a month.
I thought I'd be able to leave soon. But it turned out I still had to wait another month.
I scrolled through rental listings while mentally sorting out what I needed to pack. Ever since moving in with Shirley, I'd treated this place like home. I'd filled it with many things, and a lot of them wouldn't be easy to take with me.
After thinking it through, I decided to only take personal items. After all, I wouldn't be living in this city anymore, so those things wouldn't matter in the future.
I made an appointment with an agent to view apartments in the afternoon, then headed to the guest room to rest.
When I woke up and walked out of the guest room, Shirley looked at me with an expression I couldn't even comprehend. I didn't ask. I checked the time and went to wash up.
Suddenly, she slammed the mug she was holding onto the floor.
I turned around at the noise and saw the shattered mug on the ground. I actually let out a relieved laugh.
Back when I got obsessed with pottery-making, I had made that mug myself. It was the first piece I ever finished. When I gave it to Shirley, she laughed at me for ages, saying it was the ugliest thing she had ever laid her eyes on.
Back then, I told her very seriously, "It's just like my love for you—one of a kind."
Now, the mug was shattered. Which meant our relationship was over too.
Ignoring the broken mug, I finished washing up, put on my shoes, and headed out. Meanwhile, Shirley sat in the living room, staring blankly at my back as I left.
…
By afternoon, I'd viewed a few places and quickly settled on one. It was a fully furnished one-bedroom unit with a living room. Most importantly, it was only a five-minute walk to work.
The location of the old place was all for Shirley's convenience. But for me to get to my office from there, it would take half an hour even without traffic. Back then, I only thought about giving and sacrificing. I never imagined this would be my ending.
I paid the rent and deposit on the spot. I wanted to move in that night. I could already feel the freedom and peace calling my name.
When I got back home, Shirley wasn't there. I packed all my things into one big suitcase and rolled it out the door.
By the time I cleaned up the new place, it was already nighttime. I was exhausted, but I felt great.
Unfortunately, that happy feeling didn't last long. Shirley called me. I looked at the time and already knew what this was about.
Normally, around this hour, she'd ask me to cook her a hangover meal and draw her a bath. But she wasn't getting that from me anymore.
I picked up the phone, and her surprised voice came through, "Chester, you moved out?"
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