By 9 p.m., three large boxes sat sealed in the building’s storage room. I changed my relationship status on every platform to **Single**. Then I blocked Julian across phone, social media, email, and even his work Slack that he had insisted on installing on my phone “for emergencies.”
The silence that followed was the most peaceful sound I had ever heard.
---
For five glorious days, I lived.
I went to the gym without feeling guilty for “prioritizing myself.” I had long video calls with my best friend, Lena, who had been begging me to leave Julian for over a year. I cooked actual meals instead of the quick takeout Julian preferred. I slept diagonally across the entire bed. I read books. I laughed freely. The weight I had been carrying for two years lifted so dramatically that I felt lighter on my feet.
On the evening of day five, the intercom buzzed.
“Chloe? Julian is downstairs. He says he’s been trying to reach you and wants to come up,” Marcus, the kind doorman, said.
I smiled. “Send him up.”
I stood in the middle of the living room in a flowing navy-blue maxi dress I had bought for myself the day before. My hair was freshly washed and curled. I held my phone in one hand, screen facing outward, the word **Single** clearly visible on my profile.
When the knock came—loud, entitled, impatient—I opened the door.
Julian stood there in his leather jacket, looking equal parts confused and angry. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept. “What the hell, Chloe? I’ve been calling you for days. Why won’t my texts go through?”
I stepped aside so he could see the living room. It looked different. Cleaner. His gaming chair was gone. His framed posters were down. The space felt like *mine* again.
