The Audacity of Dumping Me

My boyfriend got a tenure-track offer from Ashford University—and the night he found out, he cried in my arms for hours.

Before he left the country, he held my hand, looking guilty.

"Babe, the cost of living over there is insane, and you probably won't be able to find a decent job. Once I get settled, I'll bring you over in style…"

He paused, waiting for me to appreciate how "considerate" he was being.

What he didn't know was that just half an hour earlier, I'd overheard him on the balcony.

"Don't worry, the tickets are booked. We're going together. No way I'm leaving you behind."

On the other end of the line was his gentle, sweet junior.

He'd spent years looking down on my education, always saying I couldn't understand his "soul."

But every time I handed him my tips from waiting tables and delivering takeout—stained envelopes, greasy and crumpled—he'd take them like he was doing me a favor.

What he also didn't know was that I'd long since gotten tired of playing the "I'll work to put you through school" bit.

I only started dating him because he was cute—I wanted a little thrill.

I just didn't expect to keep the act going for three years. And for a second here and there, I almost believed it myself.

I was already looking for an excuse to dump him. Then he handed me one on a silver platter.

So when he gave his little speech, I barely held back a smile as I fixed his collar.

"Okay. Then take good care of yourself over there. I'm gonna be late for my night shift. Gotta go."

I turned around and called my best friend.

"Book me a table at VIVA tonight. I'm single again—time to party."

"Amy, careful—it's hot."

A gentle male voice drifted from inside the apartment.

My hand froze midair, keys dangling.

It was my boyfriend, Harvey Schur.

I pushed the door open. His junior, Amy Linetti, was lounging on the couch in my bathrobe, cradling a steaming cup of milk. And Harvey—the same man who wouldn't bother to pick up a fallen soy sauce bottle—was now kneeling on one knee beside her, carefully peeling an apple.

It was a kind of tenderness and patience I had never once received.

The moment Amy saw me, a flicker of triumph flashed in her eyes before she quickly replaced it with a timid, fragile look.

"Melanie, you're back. Harvey was worried you've been working too hard, so he asked me to come keep him company—and help tidy up the place."

As she spoke, she stretched deliberately, making sure I got a clear look at the robe she was wearing.

"Your clothes are so comfortable… though they're a little big on me."

Only then did Harvey's gaze shift from her to me—landing squarely on my grease-stained work uniform.

His brow tightened instantly into a deep frown.

"Go change out of that outfit right now! It's filthy. Don't walk around in front