Chapter 11
1492words
No. Today was the day.
I took a deep breath and began removing these traces one by one. Phone contact—deleted. Social media follows—canceled. Those late-night chat histories—all cleared. With each press of the delete button, I felt like I was peeling away a layer of old skin.
Finally, there were those physical items. I packed them all into a cardboard box, like packing trash. Alex's copy of "Selected Poems of Neruda" lay on top, its cover still bearing the doodles I'd drawn when bored. I stared at it for a few seconds, then firmly closed the box lid.
"Goodbye, Alex Rodriguez," I said to the box, then dragged it directly down to the garbage bin outside.
Back in my apartment, I opened a fitness app and began the first morning workout of my life. Although I only followed the video for twenty minutes of basic training, when the sweat dripped onto the floor, I felt like I was reclaiming control of my body.
This was the new Chloe Miller. Healthy, rational Chloe Miller who wouldn't lose sleep over some jerk.
---
"You look different today," Mason said to me in the office break room, holding two cups of coffee.
"Different how?" I took the coffee and noticed he remembered I like one spoonful of sugar.
"Hmm...more energetic? Like you've had a good night's sleep."
I almost laughed out loud. If only he knew that I was up until 3 a.m. last night, researching various "how to get over your ex" articles online.
"Maybe it's because I've started working out."
"Really?" Mason's eyes lit up. "I've been thinking about getting back into exercise too. Maybe we could do it together? I mean, if you don't mind."
Looking at his slightly nervous expression, I suddenly realized the implication behind this invitation. But strangely, I didn't feel offended or pressured. Instead, a warm feeling slowly spread through my chest.
"Sounds good," I said, "though I'm still at the 'beginner level rookie' stage."
"Perfect, me too."
Over the next few days, Mason and I grew closer. We would have lunch together, chatting about the latest game releases and ridiculous client demands. After work, we often walked to the subway station together, and those brief ten-minute journeys always seemed to fly by.
Being with Mason was easy. He didn't stare at my chest while I was talking, didn't suddenly send ambiguous late-night texts, and didn't abruptly start pretending to be profound about life philosophy during our conversations. He was just... Mason. Reliable, funny, and safe-feeling Mason.
"You know what," I said suddenly one day while we were waiting for the traffic light, "talking with you reminds me of friendships back in college."
"What do you mean?"
"It's just... no hidden agenda. No one trying to prove anything or impress anyone. Just two people having a conversation."
Mason turned to look at me, his expression somewhat complicated. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No, this is good." I realized my words might sound a bit strange. "What I mean is, it's... precious."
The red light turned green, and we continued walking forward. I didn't notice the small, satisfied smile on Mason's face.
---
Friday night, the entire office was down to just Mason and me. We were both making final edits for Monday's client proposal, and our coffee cups had been emptied for the third time.
"Alright," Mason finally closed his laptop, "I think if we keep editing, we'll just ruin it."
I rubbed my sore neck. "You're right. My eyes are about to go blind."
"Hmm..." Mason hesitated for a moment, then said, "Do you have any plans for tonight?"
"Go home, order takeout, then randomly find something on Netflix to watch until I fall asleep," I answered honestly. "A typical Friday night for a single woman."
"So... would you like to come over to my place?" Mason's voice sounded a bit nervous. "I just bought 'It Takes Two,' which is said to be one of the best co-op games. We could try to complete it together."
I paused while packing my things and looked at him. Mason's face was slightly flushed, obviously waiting for my answer.
This was an invitation. Not a work-related invitation, not a "by the way, let's" invitation, but a real, personal invitation.
A month ago, I might have made excuses to refuse, then run off to find Alex, spending another chaotic night in his messy apartment. But now I...
"Sounds fun," I heard myself say. "I can bring pizza."
---
Mason's apartment was much neater than I had imagined. Not in an obsessive-compulsive way, but with a natural, lived-in comfort. The bookshelves were filled with games and sci-fi novels, several posters he designed himself hung on the walls, and the sofa looked perfect for gaming.
"Sorry it's a bit messy," he said while hurriedly clearing a few empty cups from the coffee table.
"This isn't messy. This is called 'having a lived-in feel'." I put the pizza box on the counter in the kitchen. "Trust me, you should see my place."
We spent ten minutes setting up the game, and then became completely immersed in the world of "It Takes Two." This game was practically tailor-made for our situation—two characters must coordinate perfectly to solve puzzles, while also being full of humor and surprises.
"Left! Jump to the left!" I shouted, the controller vibrating frantically in my hands.
"I am jumping left!" Mason shouted back. "Your character is blocking my way!"
We both fell off the cliff at the same time, then burst into laughter.
Time slipped by without us noticing. By the time we finally completed the second chapter, it was nearly midnight. We collapsed on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes and empty soda bottles, feeling like we'd just experienced an epic adventure.
"We are absolute geniuses," Mason said breathlessly.
"We are the power couple of the gaming world," I responded, then realized what I had just said.
A brief silence.
"Chloe," Mason said softly, "I..."
But he didn't finish, because I had already leaned back against the sofa and closed my eyes. Today's work, the focus on gaming, and this unprecedented feeling of relaxation suddenly made me feel incredibly tired.
"I'm sorry, I..." I mumbled.
"It's okay." Mason's voice was gentle. "You sleep. I'll get a blanket."
I felt something soft covering me, then footsteps gradually moving away. The lights in the room dimmed, leaving only the indicator lights of the game console blinking in the darkness.
It was the most peaceful sleep I'd had in a long time.
---
I was awakened by slight sounds coming from the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, forming golden stripes on the floor. I blinked, taking a few seconds to remember where I was.
Mason stood in the open kitchen with his back to me, fiddling with the coffee machine. He was wearing a wrinkled T-shirt and pajama pants, his hair messy, movements somewhat clumsy.
I watched him quietly like this. Watched as he carefully measured the coffee grounds, as he frowned while studying the instructions for the milk frother, as he almost knocked over the small sugar container.
Something slowly spread in my chest—not passion, not desire, but something deeper. A warm, settled feeling.
Is this what security feels like?
Mason turned around, saw that I was awake, and his face broke into that distinctive smile of his—somewhat awkward yet innocent.
"Good morning. Coffee will be ready soon."
"Good morning."
I sat up, the blanket sliding down to my knees. The room was filled with the aroma of coffee and the gentleness of morning sunlight. No rush, no awkwardness, no uncomfortable "I should leave now."
Just this moment. Just this simple moment of Mason brewing coffee for me in the kitchen.
Perhaps, I thought, perhaps this is Plan A.
Not intense passion, not dramatic ups and downs, not those complex emotions that make you stare at the ceiling at three in the morning contemplating the meaning of life.
Maybe true happiness is just this: playing games together on Friday night, drinking coffee together on Saturday morning, and having someone who covers you with a blanket when you fall asleep.
Mason walked over with two cups of coffee, carefully placing one on the coffee table in front of me.
"Thank you," I said, with a softness in my voice that even I hadn't expected.
Just then, my phone vibrated.
A name flashed on the screen: Alex.
Mason saw it too. His smile froze for a moment, the coffee cup in his hand trembled slightly.
"Do you... need to answer that?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
I looked at the name, then at Mason.
