Chapter 4

A coworker and I opened Instagram on our phones, pulling up Emma’s profile.

On my screen, I only saw two posts. One from last month with a caption about working late, and one from yesterday—an announcement of her promotion, with a thank you to the company and her colleagues.

But on my coworker’s screen, there were at least a dozen posts.

Caption: Someone told me we should eat somewhere romantic.

Photo: A dimly lit French restaurant, looking all too fancy.

The date? I had been stuck in the office finishing a proposal that night.

I’d even suggested that place to Ryan once, but he said it was overpriced and not worth it. Instead, we’d ended up eating cheap hotpot from a place down the street.

Caption: Collecting every little spark of happiness.

Photo: Emma and Ryan at an art gallery, doing a heart gesture with their hands.

It was just his hand in the photo, but that watch on his wrist? I’d bought it for him.

And the date? I’d been at the office revising that very same proposal, the one Ryan said wasn’t good enough yet.

Caption: I saw it and he bought it for me immediately.

Photo: The newest iPhone, iPhone 14 Pro Max, 1TB, in Sierra Blue.

And the date? The day after I’d given that exact phone to Ryan.

He had hinted that his old phone was broken but said he couldn’t afford a new one. Being the good girlfriend I was, I used my hard-earned paycheck to buy him the best.

I’d noticed later that he wasn’t using it. When I asked, he said it had been stolen, and he felt terrible about it. I’d even planned to buy him a replacement with my next bonus.

Twenty-five years of life, and only now am I realizing how low my IQ must be.

Ladies, listen up: spending money on a man is a surefire way to curse yourself for eight generations.

As I scrolled through the posts, my fists clenched so hard I thought they might break.

At that moment, I wished I could sprout eight arms like an octopus and slap both Ryan and Emma in one go.

Just as I was imagining it, Emma returned to her desk. Our eyes met, and she gave me a look as if she were the one wronged.

I used to think she was cute, but now, she looked like a rotten grape—full of toxic juice.

And that shiny iPhone sitting on her desk? The one I bought with my own money?

My. Damn. Money.

That’s it.

I’m done.