My promotion to sous-chef was supposed to be my moment. Finally, validation for years of grinding in Chicago's cutthroat restaurant scene. But then he walked in: Ryan Blakely, Nicole's high school sweetheart, flaunting a vintage Mustang key. "I figured you'd look better in the passenger seat of this than his sensible sedan," he sneered, a direct shot at my hard-earned life. Then Nicole, my girlfriend, took the key and looked at me with pity. "He just doesn't get it. Too serious all the time," she dismissed, right in front of everyone. Later that night, she raged at me for walking out, only to abandon me on the curb when Ryan got a DUI. The next morning, she demanded breakfast, casually calling me "useless." Then, I saw them together, intimate, picking out appliances like a new couple. She handed me her car keys, asking me to drive her car home because "Ryan's giving me a ride." Worst of all, she set me up in a fancy restaurant, baiting a confrontation between me and Ryan. How could the woman I loved humiliate me so publicly, so repeatedly, for another man? Why was everything always about Nicole, even my own success? I picked up a pen and signed the lease release agreement. My choice was clear: embrace betrayal, or walk away and build a life of my own.
My promotion to sous-chef was supposed to be my moment.
Finally, validation for years of grinding in Chicago's cutthroat restaurant scene.
But then he walked in: Ryan Blakely, Nicole's high school sweetheart, flaunting a vintage Mustang key.
"I figured you'd look better in the passenger seat of this than his sensible sedan," he sneered, a direct shot at my hard-earned life.
Then Nicole, my girlfriend, took the key and looked at me with pity.
"He just doesn't get it. Too serious all the time," she dismissed, right in front of everyone.
Later that night, she raged at me for walking out, only to abandon me on the curb when Ryan got a DUI.
The next morning, she demanded breakfast, casually calling me "useless."
Then, I saw them together, intimate, picking out appliances like a new couple.
She handed me her car keys, asking me to drive her car home because "Ryan's giving me a ride."
Worst of all, she set me up in a fancy restaurant, baiting a confrontation between me and Ryan.
How could the woman I loved humiliate me so publicly, so repeatedly, for another man?
Why was everything always about Nicole, even my own success?
I picked up a pen and signed the lease release agreement.
My choice was clear: embrace betrayal, or walk away and build a life of my own.
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