Chapter 2: Playing the Perfect Goodbye

Clearly, Caleb didn’t buy my explanation.

He didn’t need to say anything; the way he rolled his shoulders as he set his keys on the table said it all. Three years of this routine—sniping, sulking, and apologies made in half-hearted whispers.

We’d been together for three years, and I’d played the role of the mean girlfriend for just as long. That awful image was already carved into Caleb’s heart.

Sometimes I wondered if I was more of a roommate than a lover, the way we drifted around each other. I watched him, wondering if there was still hope for us, or if the role I played had become reality.

He took off his DoorDash jacket and headed into the kitchen.

The logo on the back was faded from too many washes, and the jacket looked two sizes too big on his wiry frame. He moved with the tired precision of someone who’d worked a double shift and had nothing left to give.

I leaned my forehead on my hand and let the system have it.

“Do you know how many soap operas I watched to nail this sharp-tongued, mean persona?”

I could practically feel my blood pressure rise as I mentally yelled at the invisible program. My reflection on the phone screen showed a woman barely holding it together, trapped in a part she never auditioned for.

“You disappeared for three years, left me here all alone, and now you make a rookie mistake like this?”

My hands shook slightly as I gripped the phone, thumb poised to throw it at the couch. I was angry—angry at the system, at myself, at this script I couldn’t seem to escape.

“What do you mean, ‘tragically short-lived first love’? Is that something you can just change on a whim?”

Wait...

Tragically short-lived first love?

The words echoed around my mind like a sad song. For a second, the room felt colder. The hum of the fridge was the only thing keeping me tethered to the moment as my mind spun. I wrapped my cardigan tighter around me and listened for the system’s reply, heart thumping in my chest.

After the system confirmed it, I slowly calmed down.

My shoulders slumped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting the facts settle in like dust after a storm. There was no fighting it now.

“How much time do I have left?”

[About half a year.]

[This one’s on me. I’ll give you double the rewards when it’s over.]

[For now, just play the role of a gentle, understanding girlfriend.]

I glanced at Caleb in the kitchen, and a wave of sadness welled up in my heart. I didn’t know if it was for him or for myself.

He stood at the stove, the outline of his back framed by the yellowish glow from the old light fixture. I watched his quiet, methodical movements—cracking eggs, boiling water—wondering if he’d ever really seen me, or just the mask I wore.

Caleb and I met in college and stayed in Toledo to work after graduation. From the moment I transmigrated, the system laid out my character settings:

Lazy, mean, and fake.

To stick to the script, I hadn’t worked in three years, relying completely on Caleb’s multiple jobs to support me. Even then, I’d yell at him or snap whenever I felt like it.

My phone buzzed with reminders—student loan notifications, a reminder to pay rent, and a DoorDash promo. The world outside was real, relentless. I’d let myself get too comfortable living off Caleb’s quiet, dependable grind.

Originally, after half a year, Caleb would lose patience and break up with me. The mean girlfriend would exit, and the male lead would reach the peak of his life.

I could almost see it: Caleb shedding the dead weight, finally smiling again, maybe even getting promoted at work or starting his own food truck. The script was set. Only, now, the story had changed.

Now, great—after playing the villain, I had to become the delicate, doomed first love.

I let out a dry, bitter laugh. Life sure had a twisted sense of humor.

"The one that got away"—such a pretty phrase. Did I deserve it?

The idea made my stomach twist. I glanced at my reflection in the window and tried to imagine myself as anyone’s lost, shining memory. Did I even know how to be that kind of girl?

I immediately grabbed my phone and started searching.

I scrolled through Reddit threads and lifestyle blogs, searching for clues. Every answer seemed impossibly soft, gentle, and graceful. I’d have to fake it till I made it.

[What are the traits of the one that got away?]