The Art of the "Whatever"

Chapter 1 While grocery shopping for mooncakes to take home for the Mid-Autumn Festival, I snapped a picture of three different flavors and sent it to our group chat. [Which ones do you guys want? I’ll pick them up now.] My best friend, Chloe, replied: [Whatever, I’m fine with anything.] My boyfriend, Ryan, replied: [I’ll just have whatever she’s having.] In the end, I grabbed three boxes of the lotus seed paste with salted egg yolk. But when I returned to the apartment carrying three identical gift boxes, Ryan gave me a look of exasperated resignation and exchanged a knowing smile with Chloe. "When Chloe says 'whatever,' she doesn't actually mean 'whatever'." "Her dad loves the salted egg yolk, her mom likes red bean paste, and she prefers the snow-skin durian ones." "You were supposed to buy one of each." I looked at the three boxes of mooncakes sitting on the table and didn't say a word. I’ve been with Ryan for five years, and he has always been infinitely better at decoding my best friend's hidden meanings than mine. When we go out to eat and ask if she wants a booth or a table, she always says "whatever." But Ryan always instinctively knows to save her the corner booth seat, tucked away from the aisle. I am always the one sitting in the aisle. When we were planning our graduation trip and asked if she preferred Miami or Colorado, she said "whatever." Before I even had a chance to look at flights, Ryan had already booked everything and planned a full itinerary for Colorado—the place Chloe secretly wanted to go. And when I was hospitalized with a perforated ulcer, and he asked if I needed him to stay the night with me? I angrily told him "whatever." And he took it completely literally, leaving me alone in the hospital. Ryan was a master at deciphering Chloe's "whatevers," effortlessly delivering the perfect, unstated answer every single time. But when it came to my unspoken needs? He never seemed to hear them once. If that's the case, I guess I don't need to explicitly say the word 'breakup' either. ... Ryan sighed heavily. "I guess I'll just have to go back to the store and buy them again." Chloe quickly shook her head, putting on a bashful, guilty expression. "No, please don't go through the trouble! Any brand of mooncake is totally fine." But Ryan had already grabbed his car keys and was heading for the door. I watched his retreating back, feeling a dull numbness settle over me. That specific high-end bakery was an hour away by subway. With the holiday weekend approaching, traffic would be a nightmare. Just a few days ago, when I asked him if he could give me a ride there to buy gifts for my parents... He complained it was too much of a hassle and said there was no need to drive all the way across town. My phone buzzed in my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. It was the group chat. Chloe had sent Ryan a message. [Since you're driving past the boba shop on your way back anyway, could you grab two drinks for me and Mia? Please?] Ryan replied instantly: [What do you guys want?] Chloe: [Whatever.] Ryan simply replied: [Okay.] It wasn't until an entire hour later that he realized I hadn't answered. [@Mia, stop overthinking it, just tell me what you want.] I swiped up on my screen, copied Chloe's exact message, and pasted it into the chat. [Whatever.] The group chat went completely dead. I looked over at Chloe, who was lounging on the sofa. Half a month ago, she claimed her lease was up and asked to crash on our couch for "a few days" to shorten her commute. It's been two weeks, and I haven't heard a single word about this supposed new apartment she’s looking for. When Ryan finally walked back through the door, Chloe's high-pitched squeal almost shattered my eardrums. "Oh my god, how did you know I wanted this one?! You even got the limited-edition collaboration cup and the keychain!" I glanced at the brand-new, seasonal boba drink and the exclusive merchandise in her hands. Then, I looked at the basic, buy-one-get-one-free iced tea he was holding out to me. I didn't take it. Ryan frowned, an irritated crease forming between his brows. "What is it now?" "You forgot. I just had stomach surgery. I can't drink ice-cold beverages right now." He froze for a second. "You didn't make that clear in the text." I opened the group chat, scrolling back to show him the exchange between him and Chloe, and held the phone up to his face. "She didn't specify what she wanted either." He stared at me for two beats, then suddenly let out a short, cynical laugh. "Are you seriously picking a fight over this? If you want one, I'll buy you the exact same thing tomorrow." "Next time, just use your words and tell me what you want." The exact same phrase. When Chloe uses it, he decodes it in a millisecond and delivers a gesture that touches her very soul. When I use it, he can't be bothered to ask, and he certainly can't be bothered to guess. Ryan reached out, attempting to pull me closer. "Alright, enough. I picked up the mooncakes for your parents while I was out." I reached into the bag and pulled out a box of the lava custard mooncakes. It was my mother's absolute favorite. When I went to the store earlier today, the shelves for this specific brand were completely empty. When I was checking out, I had casually complained about it to Ryan over the phone. I didn't expect him to actually remember. I took a deep breath. I was just about to ask him what time we were leaving to drive back to my hometown tomorrow. We had previously agreed that we would use this holiday visit to officially discuss setting a wedding date with my parents. But before I could speak, Chloe practically skipped over, eyeing the shopping bags with an exaggerated look of overwhelmed delight. "Wow, you actually bought eight different flavors! It's so hard to choose!" My chest tightened. Before I could even react, Ryan reached out and took the mooncakes back from me. "If you like them, just take them all." "You have a huge family anyway, I'm sure they'll all get eaten." I stared at him, stunned. "Didn't you just say those were for my parents?" "Your parents aren't picky. The three boxes of lotus paste you bought are more than enough." A sudden, sharp sting hit the back of my nose. Last Thanksgiving, I spent hours picking out an expensive gourmet gift basket for my family. I didn't find out until we arrived at my parents' house that Ryan had swapped it out and given the expensive one to Chloe. His excuse back then was identical to the one he was using now. "Stop being so petty. Your parents won't even be able to taste the difference." But what he didn't know was that the cheap, off-brand basket Chloe bought had given my parents severe food poisoning. They were violently ill for three days. If my younger brother hadn't called to warn me a few days ago, I wouldn't have even known it happened. Seeing that I refused to let go of the gift bag, Ryan pulled harder. His tone turned sharp and impatient. "It's literally a box of mooncakes. Is it really worth fighting over?" The paper handles of the bag dug sharply into my palms, leaving red, stinging marks. I let go. And then, I smiled. "You're right. It's not worth it." A relationship like this... isn't worth fighting for anymore. Chapter 2 Seeing me yield, the tension in Ryan's face finally relaxed. He reached out and affectionately ruffled my hair, just like he always did. "Alright. We have that get-together with my friends tonight, remember?" "Hurry up and change, we're going to be late." Chloe, as if suddenly remembering, rushed to her suitcase and pulled out a dress, shoving it into my hands. "Ryan bought this specifically for you! Try it on, we'll wait for you downstairs." I stared at the dress. It was the newest arrival from a designer brand I had been talking about for months but couldn't bring myself to buy. But the tag on the collar clearly read 'Size Small.' Chloe's size. And the fabric carried a faint, lingering scent. It had obviously been worn by Chloe already. I tossed the dress onto the sofa. It felt like a massive boulder was sitting directly on my chest. I couldn't catch my breath. My phone buzzed twice. It was Ryan. [Are you coming down?] I tapped the text box. Before I could even type a reply, a second message popped up. [Grab a jacket for Chloe, it's getting windy out tonight.] He wasn't asking why I was taking so long. He just wanted me to act as Chloe's personal assistant. I stopped typing and walked over to the window, looking down at the street below. Ryan's car was idling by the curb. Chloe was sitting in the passenger seat, her head tilted back, drinking water out of the matching couple's thermos I had bought for him. And it wasn't just the thermos. Over the past two weeks since Chloe moved in... She wore Ryan's house slippers, claiming the larger size was "so much comfier." She would casually slip on his white button-down shirts, saying men's clothing had "better fabric" and the oversized fit made the perfect pajamas. Since they worked at the same company, it became a matter of convenience that they commuted together every single day. And that passenger seat... had effectively become her exclusive territory. And Ryan? He never rejected a single one of these intrusions. In the beginning, I didn't think much of it. They had known each other longer than I had known him. When Ryan was pursuing me, and through all our breakups and makeups over the last five years, Chloe had always played the mediator. I convinced myself that if there was going to be anything between them, it would have happened long before I came into the picture. But looking down at them now, the reality finally snapped into focus. Every single boundary had been completely obliterated. Right then, a text message from the police precinct popped up on my screen. [Ms. Hayes, regarding the police report you filed the day before yesterday, we need you to come down to the station to answer a few follow-up questions.] I took a deep, steadying breath and finally walked downstairs. When Chloe saw me approach the car, she made a theatrical show of unbuckling her seatbelt. "Oh, sorry Mia. I've gotten so used to sitting here lately. Here, you take the front." Ryan noticed I wasn't wearing the new dress, and I wasn't carrying a jacket. A flicker of extreme annoyance crossed his face. He reached over and pulled Chloe firmly back into the passenger seat. "Don't bother switching. We don't have time to waste." I didn't say a word. I just kept walking right past the car. Ryan froze, then slammed his foot on the gas, cutting off my path. He got out and grabbed my arm. "Mia, what exactly is your problem now?" "No problem. We just aren't heading in the same direction." He let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "What does that mean?" "You guys are going to a party. I'm going to the police station. It's not on the way." He stared at me for two seconds, realizing I wasn't just throwing a tantrum. A flicker of genuine anxiety finally surfaced in his eyes. "Why are you going to the police station?" I glanced at Chloe sitting comfortably in the passenger seat. Two nights ago, while working late at the office, my manager attempted to sexually assault me. I barely managed to fight him off and escape. I hid in a supply closet, sobbing hysterically, and called Ryan, begging him to come get me. Before I could even finish my sentence, he cut me off. "Chloe got totally wasted at a networking dinner. Let me go pick her up, and then I'll come get you." I stayed hidden in that closet, shaking so violently I dropped my phone. I waited through the police arriving, taking my statement, processing the scene, and photographing my bruises. I waited for hours. He never showed up. The trauma of that night still felt like shattered glass embedded in my chest. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. "It's nothing." Ryan frowned, clearly preparing to interrogate me further. Chloe suddenly leaned her head out the window, looking incredibly stressed. "Ryan, my boss has already texted me three times." "If we're late again tonight, he's definitely going to force me to do tequila shots as punishment." The hesitation in Ryan's eyes vanished instantly. He gave me a quick, dismissive instruction. "I'll drop her off first, then I'll come find you." The car sped off, the engine roaring. I stood under the dull glow of the streetlight, letting out a soft, completely unsurprised laugh. On the Uber ride to the police precinct, I pulled out my phone and drafted my official resignation letter to my company's HR department. [I will not drop the charges.] [I am not the one who committed a crime.] Chapter 3 By the time I walked out of the police precinct, over an hour had passed. Even though I didn't have to face my attacker directly, every time I stepped inside that building, the horrific memories of that night forced their way back to the surface. Whenever a man walked too close to me on the sidewalk, I instinctively flinched and tried to back away. My legs were still trembling slightly. Out of habit, I opened my messages. There wasn't a single text from him. Instead, I saw that Chloe had posted three new Instagram stories in a row. I tapped through the videos. In the shaky, poorly-lit footage of a crowded bar, Ryan's tall silhouette was unmistakable. He was standing protectively in front of her, physically blocking other guys from handing her drinks, and peeling shrimp for her at the table. When Chloe lost a drinking game, Ryan smoothly stepped in and took the penalty shot for her. The way they interacted looked infinitely more like a couple than we ever did. I was just about to close the app when I noticed the bracelet on Chloe's wrist in the video. My heart plummeted into my stomach. That was the vintage jade bangle my grandmother had left me before she died... I immediately hailed a cab and sped toward the bar where the party was being held. When I walked into the private room, Ryan looked genuinely surprised. "You're done at the station? I was just about to leave and come get you." I didn't even look at him. I walked straight up to Chloe and held out my hand. "Give me my bracelet back." Chloe instinctively shrank back, hiding behind Ryan's shoulder. She put on a masterclass in looking innocent and conflicted. "I'm so sorry, Mia. I forgot to ask you." "I just thought the jade matched the dress I was wearing tonight perfectly..." Ryan frowned deeply when he heard that. But his instinct, as always, was to run interference for her. "Mia, whatever this is about, we can talk about it when we get home. Don't make a scene in front of everyone." I stared at him in absolute disbelief. "You know perfectly well that I don't even wear that bracelet because I'm terrified of breaking it. If she likes jade so much, she can go buy her own. Why did she go into my room and steal it?" "I didn't steal it." Chloe's eyes instantly filled with tears, beating me to the punch. "Fine, whatever. Don't let this ruin your night. I'll just give it back." She made a show of tugging the bracelet off her wrist and shoving it toward my hand. But before I even reached out to take it, she continued: "I know you're not usually this petty over jewelry. I know you're just lashing out because you're still mad that Ryan left you hanging to come pick me up the other night, right?" "If it bothers you that much, I promise I'll never get involved in your relationship again..." My mind went completely blank. "What exactly does that mean?" Chloe feigned shock, clapping a hand over her mouth like she had accidentally spilled a secret. "When you called him crying that night, he was already parked outside your office building." "But when he heard I was getting aggressively hit on by clients..." She trailed off, executing the "oops, I said too much" routine flawlessly. I stood completely paralyzed, the blood in my veins turning to ice. So, while I was trapped in that closet, sobbing and begging for help... he was literally sitting right downstairs. But he still chose to hang up on me and drive away to go save Chloe. I felt like a hollow shell as I mechanically reached out to take the bracelet. The very second my fingertips brushed against Chloe's skin... She let go of the jade bangle prematurely. As the priceless heirloom plummeted toward the hardwood floor, I didn't even have time to shove her out of the way to try and catch it. Chloe let out a bloodcurdling shriek and dramatically threw herself sideways onto the floor. Ryan caught her with lightning speed, pulling her safely into his arms. His face instantly darkened into a mask of pure fury. "Mia! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" "Are you actually attacking her over a piece of jewelry?!" I stared blankly at the murderous look in his eyes. Tears finally broke past my defenses, spilling relentlessly down my face. I remembered huddling in the dark supply closet, my hands shaking so violently I couldn't even grip my phone. I remembered the police aggressively questioning me for details while my attacker screamed from the hallway that he was going to destroy my career. I remembered the crippling insomnia that had tortured me every night since my company HR threatened me to drop the charges. And in the very moment I needed him the absolute most... His entire universe was focused entirely on Chloe. I fought back the humiliating sob in my throat and asked, my voice trembling: "In your mind... is Chloe the only person whose problems actually matter?" Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but Chloe cut him off, her voice thick with tears. "Mia, I know you've always felt insecure, but I swear on my life, Ryan and I are just friends..." Ryan looked down at Chloe, sobbing quietly against his chest. Any hesitation or guilt he might have felt vanished completely. "Mia, if there was actually anything romantic going on between me and Chloe, do you honestly think you would still have a place here?" The second he said it. The rest of the people in the room chimed in like a Greek chorus. "Seriously. They've known each other forever. They're basically siblings. There's no need to act like a psycho, jealous girlfriend." "If Chloe hadn't actively played matchmaker and stepped aside, Mia wouldn't even be dating him right now." "..." The room was saturated with judgmental, mocking stares. They all thought I was a psychotic, dramatic bitch ruining the party. Ryan stood there, maintaining his protective stance over Chloe, staring at me in stony silence. I let out a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. I gripped my grandmother's bracelet so tightly my knuckles turned white, turned around, and walked out of the private room. Chloe gently pushed against Ryan's chest. "Maybe you should go after her and talk to her?" Behind me, Ryan's voice was as cold and sharp as a scalpel. "You guys don't understand her. If I try to coax her now, it'll just make her worse. Let her stew for a day, and she'll calm down." A wave of mocking laughter echoed out into the hallway. But this time, Ryan... I'm not going to need you to coax me ever again. Chapter 4 I didn't go back to the apartment that night. I checked into a hotel nearby. I couldn't stomach the thought of spending one more minute in the apartment I had shared with Ryan for five years. And true to his word, he didn't send me a single message all night. Early the next morning, after checking out of the hotel, I was preparing to head back to the apartment to pack my bags and go stay with my parents. Just as I was about to unlock the front door, my younger brother called me in a panic. "Mia... Mom's heart condition flared up again... you need to get home right now..." My breath hitched. I ripped the door open and rushed inside. I practically collided with Ryan, who was carrying Chloe's designer suitcase toward the door. Seeing me walk in, Ryan let out a visible sigh of relief. He acted as if the explosive fight from last night had simply been erased from reality, his tone casual and authoritative. "Mia, perfect timing." "Chloe's train ticket got canceled, so I'm going to drive her home. I won't be able to come with you to see your parents this weekend." All I cared about right now was getting to the hospital. I grabbed his arm, my voice shaking violently. "My mom is in the hospital... can you please drive me home right now?" The earliest commercial flight wasn't for another three hours. The absolute fastest way for me to get there was driving down the interstate. "Didn't she just get a clean bill of health at her physical last month?" I shook my head frantically, opening my mouth to explain the situation. But Chloe let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. "Mia, I know you're still holding a grudge about last night, but there is absolutely no need to make up a story about your family being sick." She looked up at Ryan, playing the role of the tragic, self-sacrificing martyr flawlessly. "Never mind. Just drive her. I'll just sit at the station and wait to see if I can get a standby ticket." Chloe grabbed the handle of her suitcase and made a move toward the door. Ryan immediately grabbed her arm, pulling her back. The brief flash of concern for my mother completely vanished from his eyes, replaced entirely by deep, overwhelming exhaustion. "You have way too much luggage. Taking the train with transfers is going to be incredibly stressful for you." He turned to look at me, his voice dropping into a harsh, lecturing tone. "Mia, grow up." "I already bought your train ticket. If you leave for the station right now, you'll make it." I stared blankly at the confirmation screenshot he forwarded to my phone. A coach ticket. A ten-hour ride. The purchase timestamp was from yesterday morning. So, they had planned to drive home together all along. I was the only one kept entirely in the dark. I fought back the tears threatening to spill over. "So you never had any intention of coming home with me this weekend?" Seeing my pale, devastated expression, Ryan's tone softened a fraction. "Plans changed. And besides, I'm not going anywhere. We can discuss the wedding details when we go back for Thanksgiving." He reached out, trying to take my hand. I let out a bitter laugh, aggressively swatting his hand away. "Don't bother." I walked past them, heading straight into the bedroom to grab my ID and pack a quick bag. From the hallway, I heard Chloe's fake, sugary voice trying to play peacemaker. "Please don't fight over me. Maybe I should just..." Ryan's response was flat and devoid of emotion. "Ignore her." My nose stung violently, but I forced myself not to turn around. When I walked back out into the living room, the apartment was completely empty. I didn't waste another second. I ran to the main road, flagged down a cab, and paid an exorbitant fee to have the driver take me straight down the interstate to my hometown. ... Five days later, the holiday weekend officially ended, and Ryan hurried back to our apartment. When he unlocked the door, the apartment was completely dark and empty. Thinking my silence over the last few days was just me holding a grudge, Ryan pulled out his phone and sent me a text. [Are you still not back yet?] The moment he hit send, a bright red exclamation point popped up on the screen. Message Failed to Deliver. He froze in confusion. He tried calling me. The automated voice informed him the number had been blocked. Finally, he drove to my office building, only to have the HR receptionist inform him that I had resigned days ago. And then, she showed him the viral video exposing the sexual harassment case I was involved in. He recognized the man in the video instantly. It was my direct supervisor, Mr. Davis. In the video, Mr. Davis was speaking to a crowd of reporters: "Regarding Ms. Hayes' malicious and entirely fabricated allegations of sexual harassment, I have retained premier legal counsel." "Furthermore, she was not terminated; she abandoned her position and resigned voluntarily..." All the color instantly drained from Ryan's face. Chapter 5 Ryan's hands shook violently as he replayed the video over and over again. He couldn't believe the woman Mr. Davis was talking about was me. And he couldn't believe that something this catastrophic had happened to me, and I had hidden the entire thing from him. In his mind, I had always been the fragile girl who would call him crying just because her boss gave her a slightly harsh performance review. He stood rigidly in the corporate lobby, staring at the receptionist, who was looking at him with undisguised judgment. His voice trembled uncontrollably when he finally spoke. "When... when exactly did this happen?" "It happened before the holiday weekend started. Probably the night of the 22nd." The 22nd... Ryan frowned, desperately trying to trace his memories back to that date. The tiny, overlooked details and fragmented memories began to violently snap into place in his mind. It was the night Chloe went to her college alumni networking dinner. That phone call... the one he had aggressively cut short... he could suddenly remember the horrific, panicked, terrifying sounds of me crying in the background. I had begged him to come pick me up from work. But at the time, he had absolutely zero patience to listen. He had automatically assumed it was just me complaining about another mundane, stressful day at the office. He felt irritated and overwhelmed, and he just didn't want to hear it. So he hung up, turned the steering wheel, and drove straight to pick up Chloe instead. So it was that night... Ryan gripped his hands into fists so tight his fingernails dug into his palms. A volatile mix of devastating heartbreak and sheer horror began to consume his entire body, causing him to shake uncontrollably. It felt like a roaring fire had been ignited in his chest, threatening to burn him alive from the inside out. He disregarded the security protocols and bolted past the reception desk, sprinting toward the executive offices. He was going to find the man in that video. But before he could even reach the main office doors, two security guards intercepted him. The veins on Ryan's forehead were bulging dangerously. He screamed into the office suite. "Davis! Get the fuck out here right now!" "He's not here." A woman, likely the HR director, stepped in front of him, looking incredibly annoyed. "And who exactly are you? If you aren't an employee of this company, I'm going to ask you to leave immediately." Ryan stared past her, looking at my empty cubicle. It felt like an invisible hand was brutally crushing his windpipe. "I'm Mia Hayes' boyfriend..." Before he could even finish the sentence. Someone in the crowd of watching employees let out a cynical, mocking laugh. "Oh, so he's here to play the white knight for Mia... Talk about being late to the party. This happened a week ago." "Seriously. The receptionist just texted me that he didn't even know she quit until five minutes ago." Every single word felt like a jagged knife plunging repeatedly into Ryan's chest. He wanted to scream and defend himself. He wanted to tell them that I had hidden it from him, that I hadn't told him anything. If he had known, he never would have gone to pick up Chloe that night. But he opened his mouth, and absolutely no sound came out. He remembered the night of the party, when I told him I was going to the police station. He had completely brushed it off as a dramatic lie. And the day he drove Chloe home for the holidays, when I looked ghostly pale and told him my mother was hospitalized, begging him to drive me home... The realization finally crashed down on him like a ton of bricks. Everything I had said was the absolute truth. He instinctively reached for his phone to dial my number, only to be hit with the agonizing reminder that I had completely blocked him. Ryan stared wildly at the desk phone sitting on a nearby cubicle. Ignoring the security guards, he lunged for it and frantically dialed my cell number. The moment the call connected, his heart leaped into his throat. "Mia, it's me..." Click. The call was disconnected immediately. The desperate, suffocating apologies and words of comfort he had been rehearsing in his mind died instantly in his throat. The HR director lost her patience and gestured sharply to the security guards. "Whether you're looking for Mia or Mr. Davis, neither of them are here." "If you continue to cause a disturbance in this office, I am calling the police." Ryan staggered out of the office building and drove back to our apartment like a ghost. The moment he pushed open the bedroom door, his eyes locked onto the engagement ring sitting perfectly in the center of my desk. It was the ring he had slipped onto my finger when he proposed six months ago. His heart felt like it was being systematically shredded. He gripped the ring so tightly the diamond dug painfully into his palm. In that moment, he only had one thought in his entire brain: he had to see me. But just as he turned to run back out the door. Chloe sprinted out of her bedroom, looking frantic. "Ryan, something terrible is happening! The internet is exploding with hate campaigns against Mia!" Ryan snatched his phone out of his pocket in sheer confusion. Trending at the very top of Twitter was a brand-new press release issued by Mr. Davis just thirty minutes ago. [Regarding the malicious allegations and defamation perpetrated against me by Ms. Hayes, I have compiled a comprehensive dossier of irrefutable evidence.] [The documentation provided below proves conclusively that Ms. Hayes initiated entirely consensual, unsolicited advances toward me over a prolonged period. This entire incident is a fabricated, extortionate PR stunt orchestrated solely by her.]