Our Anniversary Ends with an End

Chapter 2

Yohann and I had been together since our sophomore year of college. After graduation, while most of our friends chased stable jobs, he chose a different path, he wanted to start his own business.

I could've followed my parents' wishes, moved back home, and prepared for the civil service exam. But I didn't. I stayed, for him, for us. I really believed we were building something together.

Those early days were rough. We shared a tiny basement apartment, surviving on dollar-store instant noodles that were usually expired. Every day felt like a grind, just trying to make it to the next.

Yohann worked himself to the bone, nonstop meetings, endless drinking with potential clients. He pushed so hard, he ended up in the ER with stomach bleeding. Watching him go through that shattered me.

I couldn't take it anymore. I dipped into the savings I'd been quietly building for years and used it to cover our living costs. I just wanted to take some of the weight off him.

When he found out, his hands shook as he pulled me into a hug. His voice trembled as he whispered, "One day, I'll give you the life you deserve. I swear."

My mom, though, hated seeing me live like that. She called constantly, her voice full of worry.

"If you marry and live so far away, what if something happens? How are your father and I supposed to help you in time?"

But I was stubborn. I clung to the future I thought Yohann and I were creating, no matter how hard things were in the present.

Then Zandria came back from studying abroad, and everything changed.

Suddenly, Yohann had a new obsession. Extreme sports. Adrenaline rushes. Anything that let him chase a thrill, with her by his side. He signed up for skydiving, mountain climbing, cliff jumping. Things I couldn't even think about without breaking into a sweat. And somehow, she was always right there with him.

Looking back now, I feel foolish for not seeing the shift sooner.

I closed Facebook, the latest photo of the two of them still burned into my mind, and discharged myself from the hospital. I was done.

When I got home, dragging myself inside, exhausted, I kicked off my shoes just as Yohann stepped out of the bedroom. His eyes widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed into a blank stare.

"You're back," he said flatly.

"Mm." I didn't feel like talking.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward, until he finally broke it.

"Ysha, aren't you going to say anything?"

I rubbed my temple, the hospital stay still weighing heavy on me. "I'm tired, Yohann. I need to lie down. Can we talk later?"

His jaw tightened. "What kind of attitude is that?" he snapped. "You ruined this trip with your fear. We missed out on so many experiences because of you. Don't you think you owe us an apology?"

His words hit like a slap.

"I never agreed to do any of that extreme crap," I shot back. "You wanted it, go do it. I never stopped you."

He looked like he was about to lash out again, then paused, softening just a little.

"I was just trying to help you be braver," he said. "You're terrified of thunderstorms, Ysha. What'll happen when I'm not around?"

Once, I might have mistaken those words for love. Now, they just sounded condescending.

He was never really trying to help me, he was trying to mold me into someone I wasn't. He never asked what I wanted, never cared if I was okay. He was too busy building his version of the perfect girlfriend.

I majored in education, a humanities girl through and through. And yet, Yohann had me installing ceiling lights, fixing plumbing leaks, dealing with power outages. Whenever something broke, I was the one crawling under sinks or flipping circuit breakers.

"You need to be independent," he always said. "You can't expect a man to do everything for you."

So I learned. I struggled through it all, step by step, thinking that maybe this was what being a strong partner meant, sharing the load, growing together.

But now? It just felt ridiculous.

I turned to him, my voice even but firm. "If something goes wrong, I can call the police. Or the fire department. Or my parents. Why should I rely only on you?"

"Or do you think you're more capable than all of them?"

His face darkened with fury. "Are you even listening to yourself? You think help will always magically appear when you need it? Your parents spoiled you. That's why you're so out of touch with reality!"

He took a breath, trying to sound reasonable, but the edge was still there.

"Have you forgotten everything I went through to start this business? I'm teaching you how to survive in the real world!"

But he wasn't teaching me. He was controlling me. And I was finally starting to see that.