He Timed Our Dates, But Gave Her All His Time—So I Stopped Time For Us Chapter 01

He Timed Our Dates, But Gave Her All His Time—So I Stopped Time For Us Chapter 01

My long-term partner was basically a human alarm clock. Everything was about “efficiency” and “rules,” and every second of our lives had to follow his precious schedule.

He never took walks with me.

Every date was timed down to the minute.

Ask him to pick up a coffee on his way home?

A waste of time.

On our fifth anniversary, I went to the restroom.

By the time I came back, the food was gone.

Even the plates had been cleared.

Julian Mitchell checked his watch.

“The date was scheduled for one hundred and twenty minutes. You went ten minutes over.”

Our anniversary cake sat unopened beside him.

He told the server to throw it straight in the trash.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t make a scene.

“I’ll get a rideshare. You don’t have to drive me.”

Julian had been like this from the first day we met.

Everything came down to “efficiency” and “rules.” Everything had to stay on schedule.

No walks.

Dates timed to the minute.

Ask him to bring home a coffee after work?

He called it a waste of time.

But yesterday, I saw a reminder on his phone.

There was only one item.

[Cancel everything. Wait for Sophia Bennett’s call.]

Oh.

So he could waste time.

He could wait around and do absolutely nothing.

Just not for me.

Fine.

Then I didn’t need to waste the rest of my life on him either.

Julian gave a brief hum, then walked away without looking back.

A server approached me.

“Mr. Mitchell has already paid his portion of the check.”

She hesitated.

“This is yours. Your half.”

The bill was calculated down to the last cent.

He had calculated my share down to the final $1.80.

Our fifth anniversary, and we were splitting the check.

I paid with my card.

The moment I stepped outside, the sky opened up.

The rain was freezing.

Within seconds, I was soaked through, standing by the curb while the line on my rideshare app refused to move.

I retreated into the mall lobby, found a corner, and sat there until dark.

When the rain finally eased, I managed to get a ride home.

The few steps from the car to our building were enough to drench me all over again.

I opened the door to a dark living room.

A takeout container sat on the dining table.

The smell was rich and spicy.

A Cajun crawfish boil.

It came from the famous place in Westbrook.

They didn’t take reservations or offer delivery, and the wait was usually at least two or three hours.

I’d mentioned it to Julian countless times. He always called it “a waste of time” and “unsanitary.”

According to him, he could finish an entire case or watch a full documentary in the time it took to stand in that line.

The study door opened, and his voice cut through the room, cold as ice.

“Why did you call me?”

“That was during work hours. I’ve told you not to disturb me.”

I looked down at my phone.

I had called him half an hour earlier, when the rain was at its worst.

All I’d wanted was to ask whether he could bring an umbrella and meet me at the entrance to our building.

That was it.

“It was nothing.”

“Then don’t do something so pointless again.”

He glanced at the crawfish boil on the table.

“Peel them and put them in the refrigerator.”

“Who are they for?”

“A family friend. Why are you asking so many questions?”

A family friend.

Who else could it be but Sophia Bennett?

The study door shut, plunging the living room into darkness again.

I stared at the crawfish for a long time.

Then I picked one up, peeled it, and ate it.

It smelled amazing.

It tasted even better.

But all I tasted was bitterness.

I didn’t touch the rest.

I put everything back exactly as I’d found it and went to take a shower.

When I came out, Julian was on the balcony, talking on the phone.

The door wasn’t completely closed, and his voice drifted through the gap.

I’d never heard him speak like that before.

Gentle.

Patient.

“The day after tomorrow? I already have plans that morning… Yeah, I can cancel them.”

“Your car is more important. I’ll wait for your call. Let me know when it’s fixed.”

I leaned against the wall and stared at the floor.

The day after tomorrow.

We had made plans weeks ago to attend a traveling exhibition by one of my favorite artists.

The artist had come to town three times, and I’d missed every show.

This time, I’d blocked off the time on Julian’s calendar a month in advance.

He always said he hated unscheduled disruptions.

Apparently, the only unscheduled disruption he hated was me.