Lively hum of chatter and the hiss of steaming coffee filled the air in Blue City's busiest coffee shop, nestled in the heart of the university campus.
The shop buzzed with life, students poring over laptops and friends laughing over mugs of cappuccino.
Among the baristas weaving between tables, Ethan Liverpool, a waiter with an easy smile, slipped into the staff area.
His heart pounded as he glanced at his phone, the screen displaying a single name: Iris Spivot.
It had been days. Days of unanswered calls and ignored texts.
But now, she was finally calling back.
He inhaled deeply, wiped his slightly sweaty hands on his apron, and answered.
"Hey, Iris!" he said, a grin spreading across his face as he held the phone to his ear.
His voice was filled with relief, a spark of hope dancing in his chest.
But the response he got wasn't what he'd expected.
"Let's break up."
The words were cold and unfeeling, and it hit like a gut punch.
Ethan froze, his grin faltering as confusion clouded his face.
He blinked, as if trying to process what he had just heard..
"Wait—what? Break up? Why? Iris, what's going on?"
His voice wavered, unsure if this was some cruel prank.
"Come on, tell me you're joking."
But there was no laughter, no teasing comeback.
Just a stark, emotionless response.
"I'm serious, Ethan. I don't want to do this anymore."
Her words were a slap to the face.
Ethan's heart sank, his throat tightening.
He glanced around, hoping no one noticed the storm brewing within him. A knot of emotions—confusion, frustration, and desperation—began to form in his chest.
"Iris…why? What did I do? Can we talk about this, please?" His voice was a plea now, quieter, tinged with the raw edge of hurt.
"No," she said firmly. "There's nothing to talk about. Meeting up won't change anything. This is my decision."
"Are you kidding me right now?" he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief.
"We've been together for two years, Katie! Two years! And this...this is how you want to end things? Over a phone call?"
The raw frustration in his voice was met with a deafening silence on the other end. Katie didn't respond.
She didn't hang up either.
It felt deliberate, like she was giving him time to stew in the chaos she'd just unleashed.
Ethan inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself, but the hurt clawed at his chest.
Memories of their time together flashed through his mind—their late-night conversations, the way she laughed at his bad jokes, the promises they made to always work things out.
'Why was she doing this?'
"Ethan," he began again, his voice softer now, tinged with desperation, "at least give us a chance to talk. We can work through this. Whatever it is, we can fix it."
But Ethan's reply was as cold as the winter wind. "There's nothing to work out, Ethan. I'm done with you."
Ethan froze, the words hanging in the air like a heavy weight pressing down on him. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing.
'Why was she being so casual about this? Did two years mean nothing to her?'
"No," he said firmly, shaking his head as if to banish her words.
"No. I need to hear your reasons, Iris. Face to face. You can't just end everything like this—it's not fair."
He waited, clinging to the hope that she'd agree to meet him. Instead, he heard a sigh on the other end, long and weary, as if he were the one exhausting her.
That sigh hit him harder than her words, stirring a painful thought:
'Did I really mean so little to her?'
Iris's voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and cutting.
"You want reasons? Fine."
Ethan braced himself, gripping the phone tightly.
"Ethan, you're... severely lacking as a boyfriend. I'm not happy in this relationship," she said, her tone devoid of any warmth. "I don't feel like I'm getting the love I deserve. When was the last time you even sent me money? The little you do send—it's pathetic. It can't even buy a single decent meal."
Ethan's chest tightened as her words sank in.
His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. When he finally found his voice, it was shaky, filled with disbelief.
"So... this is about money?" he asked, his heart breaking with every word.
"Of course," Ethan replied bluntly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Poor guys like you shouldn't even bother trying to date. You've bitten off more than you can chew, Ethan. You're broke, and you need to accept your reality. Stop chasing after things that are out of your league."
'Chase?'
It was hypocritical for her to say that, as she was the one who approached him, her eyes lighting up as she told him he was handsome, smart, and exactly her type.
He remembered how his heart had skipped a beat back then.
He liked her too, so they started dating.
Iris had seemed so genuine, so unaffected by his financial struggles.
She'd even said she admired his work ethic, calling him "the most hardworking guy she'd ever met."
But now, hearing her condescending tone, Ethan felt a bitter knot forming in his stomach.
What happened to that girl who said she didn't care about money?
Lately, she'd been more demanding—asking for cash more often, hinting at expensive gifts, and dropping not-so-subtle comments about wanting to go to fancy restaurants.
Ethan had done his best to meet her demands. Every little thing she wanted, he tried to provide. But now, it was clear none of it had been enough.
Ethan stood frozen, the phone pressed to his ear, his mind reeling. He had always thought their connection was built on love, trust, and understanding. But now, he felt utterly blindsided.
His voice wavered as he spoke, barely above a whisper. "So that's all I am to you? Just... a bank account?"
Iris didn't respond.
The silence spoke louder than any words could, and in that moment, Ethan felt a crack deep within him—a part of himself breaking that he wasn't sure could ever be repaired.
"Fine, let's break up," Ethan said, his voice calm but firm, catching even himself off guard.
Iris paused, then uttered like she had misheard. "What?"
Ethan said more resolutely this time.
"I agree. It's probably for the best that we..."