I Took His Own Radio Advice And Walked Away From Seven Years Chapter 01

I Took His Own Radio Advice And Walked Away From Seven Years Chapter 01

My fiance, Ethan Reed, hosted a late-night relationship advice show. Every night, he told listeners to communicate before giving up on someone they loved. But whenever we fought, all he ever said to me was, “Could you try acting like an adult?”

Before our wedding, I sent an anonymous letter to the show’s listener mailbag. In it, I told the story of our seven years together. The night it aired, Ethan read the whole thing and reached his verdict almost immediately.

“This man doesn’t love her anymore.”

“He forgot her birthday. He left her alone when she was sick so he could comfort a female coworker. It wasn’t because he was busy. Someone else simply mattered more.”

I sat in front of the radio, unable to move.

So he understood perfectly.

His co-host asked, “Then why hasn’t she left him?” Ethan laughed.

“Because she’s too invested in those seven years. She can’t bring herself to admit she chose the wrong man.”

“Women like her are easy to win back. Give her the cold shoulder for a few days, buy her some flowers, and she’ll come running.”

After the show, Ethan texted me.

Ethan: [Still mad?]

Ethan: [I bought you flowers. Be home soon.]

Ethan: [I’ll go with you to your dress fitting tomorrow morning.]

He had no idea that the man he had just dissected, line by line, was himself. And I had decided to take his advice.

Seven years was a long time.

But I wasn’t about to waste the rest of my life too.

* * *

Not long afterward, I heard the lock turn. Ethan walked in carrying a bouquet of white lilies and held them out to me. My allergies kicked in almost immediately, and I quickly pushed the flowers away.

When we had first started dating, we once passed a flower shop and I sneezed a few times outside.

Ethan had immediately taken my hand and hurried me to the other side of the street.

Back then, he had been more worried than I was. He kept asking whether I could breathe.

“I’m allergic to lilies.”

Ethan stared at the bouquet for a few seconds.

“Sorry. I’ve been so busy with the anniversary event that I forgot.”

He carried the lilies out to the balcony, found my allergy medication, and handed me a glass of water. A card slipped from the wrapping.

[Wishing Ethan and Claire a lifetime of happiness. Tara]

My hands went cold as I stared at it.

“Tara picked these out?”

“The show ended late, so I asked her to choose something for me.”

Ethan bent down and picked up the card.

“She didn’t know you were allergic. She was only trying to help.”

“You couldn’t even choose my flowers yourself?”

His brows drew together.

“I paid for them, and I brought them home. Why does it matter who picked them?”

I looked at him and managed a bitter smile. Only hours earlier, he had laughed on the air about how easy I was to placate. Ignore me for a few days, buy me flowers, and I would come back on my own. Now he couldn’t even be bothered to make the gesture himself. I set the card on the table without answering. Ethan pushed the water closer to me.

“Take your medicine. We have your dress fitting in the morning.”

I had just picked up the pills when his phone rang. Tara’s tearful voice came through the speaker.

“Ethan, a pipe burst in my apartment. My whole living room is flooded. I can’t reach the super, and I can’t find the shutoff valve.”

Ethan grabbed his car keys.

“Stay out of the water. Wait in the hall. I’m coming.”

He hung up and headed for the door.

“We have the dress fitting tomorrow morning,” I reminded him.

“I know.”

He bent to put on his shoes.

“I’ll shut off the water and come right back.”

“Building maintenance is probably already on the way.”

Ethan paused.

“By the time they get there, her apartment could be ruined.”

He opened the door, then glanced back at me.

“Take your medicine and get some sleep.”

The door closed behind him, and my heart clenched. I forced down the pills with the water. The next morning, Ethan sent two messages.

Ethan: [Things still aren’t under control here.]

Ethan: [Go to the fitting without me. Just send me pictures.]

A painful lump formed in my throat. As if on cue, the bridal boutique called.

“Ms. Quinn, are you and Mr. Reed on your way?”

I stared at his messages and wiped away my tears. When I spoke, my voice was surprisingly calm.

“You don’t need to wait for us. Please cancel the appointment.”

After hanging up, I threw the lilies and the card into the trash. Then I packed my laptop and documents and checked into a nearby hotel. I opened my conversation with the executive producer of a documentary crew in Bayport and sent a message.

Claire: [Hello. Is the story producer position you mentioned still available?]