Chapter 4

Logan took me to his place and let me stay in his guest room.

He showed me in. "Ethan, this used to be my sister's room before she moved out. Hope you don't mind the decor for now, bro."

Looking at the pink wallpaper, the Disney desk, and the pigtail doll on the bed, I felt a bit dazed.

But honestly, it was fine. I was crash-landing here, and my best friend wasn't even charging me rent.

"It's perfect, man."

Victoria was a strict minimalist. Our apartment was a sterile blend of black, white, and gray.

Whenever I bought anything colorful, she would scoff and mock me: "Ethan, your taste is so painfully tacky."

The memory sent another sharp pang through my chest.

If Victoria was a silent, creeping nightmare in my life, then Logan was the universe’s way of making up for it.

I needed to go back to our shared apartment to pack my things.

To my surprise, when I arrived, Victoria was already there.

She sat on the sofa, lazily raising her eyes. "Done throwing your tantrum? Ready to come home?"

I tried my best to steady my shaking voice. "I'm not throwing a tantrum, Victoria. I meant what I said. We are over."

"I'm only here to pack my things."

Surprisingly, Victoria didn't say a word. She just sat there quietly, arms crossed, watching me with a smug, knowing smirk.

Ignoring the discomfort in my chest, I began to pack.

Actually, I didn't have much. Very few things truly belonged to me.

Most of the items in the apartment had been bought by Victoria after we moved in together.

When we first started living together, she saw my colorful toothbrush holder and towels and frowned.

"Ethan, why are your things so cheap and tacky? They're hideous."

The very next day, she threw them all out and replaced them.

When I tried to argue with her, she said indifferently, "Your things look low-class. They ruin the aesthetic of the apartment, so I replaced them."

That was the first time I had wanted to break up.

I didn't understand why personal preferences had to be labeled "high-class" or "low-class."

But my mother pressured me: "Victoria loves you, just let her have her way. You've been together for so long, you can't break up over a couple of towels."

That time, I yielded.

Only much later did I realize that these were not "small things."

Anything that systematically chips away at your happiness is never a small thing.