Wins, Losses, Empty Hearts

1 Otto and I were a perfect match and each other’s worst nightmare. Both too proud, stubborn, and competitive for our own good, we fought constantly. Our ninety-ninth fight ended with him kicking me out on the highway in a downpour. I retaliated by hiring teens to smash his windshield. When he gave me the silent treatment, I blocked him everywhere and enjoyed the quiet. We always fought dirty and made up fast. By day seven of our cold war, my pride caved. I unblocked him and texted, I’m sorry. An instant reply came, not from him, but a photo of Otto asleep on his childhood best friend Hailey’s shoulder. Hey Summer, Otto crashed at mine after playing too hard, she wrote. I’ll have him call when he wakes. A bitter burn rose in my throat. This was our ninety-ninth fight over Hailey. As I deleted his contact, I checked the box to erase every chat. Our ninety-ninth storm would be our last. No hundredth chance, no rainy reunion. The love I had chased to exhaustion was finally dead. … I wiped my face, stood up, and began packing my life into cardboard boxes. As I looked around the apartment, a heavy ache settled in my chest. Everything here was a monument to us. The shoe rack by the door was something we had built together on a lazy Sunday. The abstract canvas on the wall was covered in our messy, blended brushstrokes. Even the plush slippers on my feet were a custom pair Otto had ordered for me. I still remembered how smug he had looked when he gave them to me. "Summer, I’m doing all this so that if you ever think about leaving, you'll realize no one else will ever treat you this well. You're stuck with me." "No other guy on this planet is going to make sure your feet stay warm." But my gaze drifted from the slippers to the smart lock on the front door. I had bought it just last week, and it had been the catalyst for our final explosion. On the day of the installation, Otto had insisted on registering Hailey's fingerprint. "Summer, just let Hailey register her print. It’ll make things easier for her when she comes over to hang out." I had frozen, my chest tightening as I stared at him. "Then I want my best friend, Becca, to have a keycode too." Otto’s face had instantly darkened. "No way. The lock only holds five registered prints. One for you, one for me, one for Hailey, and two for my parents. That’s it. It’s perfect." A bitter, humorless laugh escaped me. "Otto, in this family dynamic of yours, where exactly does Hailey fit? Is she your second wife?" That was all it took. Otto slammed the door so hard the walls shook, leaving me behind. I didn't chase after him because my finger had been caught in the frame when he slammed the door, ripping my acrylic nail clean off and leaving my nailbed bleeding and raw. But in Otto’s mind, my silence was just another round of our endless game of chicken. On Wednesday, he kicked me out of his car in the middle of a flash flood warning. On Friday, when I sent a brief text asking if he had eaten, he left me on read. An hour later, he posted a picture of a lavish steak dinner with the caption: [Funny how much brighter life gets the moment you finally cut out the dead weight.] And today, Sunday, my apology was met with a picture of him sleeping on Hailey's shoulder. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was playing his usual power games, waiting for me to break, waiting for his ultimate victory. But I was done playing. There are no winners or losers in a relationship, only the one who cares more and the one who cares less. I used to be the one who cared more, which was why I had bowed my head ninety-nine times. Now, that love had been ground down to dust. I sighed, reached into a drawer, and began packing my passport and birth certificate. Suddenly, the front door clicked open. Otto walked in, his eyes dropping to the suitcase at my feet. His brow furrowed in immediate irritation. "Where do you think you're going?" I noticed he was holding a small box from the bakery I had bookmarked on TikTok yesterday. But the gesture felt hollow. "Otto," I said, my voice quiet and flat. "We're done. I want a divorce." "I’m not playing these games with you anymore." The veins on Otto’s forehead bulged. He opened his mouth to snap at me, but a voice chimed in from the hallway behind him. "Oh, look at this. Are we moving out?" Hailey stepped into the entryway, a patronizing smirk on her face. "Otto, your girl really knows how to pull your strings, doesn't she?" Otto’s mouth snapped shut. He shot me a cold, calculating look and sneered. "Fine. If you want to leave, delete your fingerprint from the lock first. And don't bother coming back." A wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. I knew what he was waiting for. He wanted to see tears, regret, and desperation. He wanted me to beg. I didn't have the energy to fight him. My injured finger was still tightly bandaged, throbbing with a dull pain, but he didn't even notice. I walked over to the smart lock to delete my data. As the machine emitted a sharp confirmation beep, Otto suddenly grabbed my arm and shoved me hard out the door. "Get the hell out! And don't you dare come crawling back!" I lost my balance, falling hard onto the concrete corridor. My knees scraped against the rough ground, the sharp sting bringing hot tears to my eyes. A suffocating sense of injustice threatened to choke me, but I forced myself to stand, biting my lip until it bled, and walked away. Nobody is indispensable, especially a toxic partner who brings another woman into your home. After Becca helped me clean and bandage my scraped knees at her apartment, she sat back and looked at me with deep concern. "What’s the plan now, Summer?" I offered her a weak, tired smile. "I think I’m going back to Savannah. Back home." Becca nodded in approval. "Honestly? That’s probably the best thing for you." I bit my lip. "I just have to go back to Otto’s place one last time." "For what?" "I need to get my cat, Joey." When Becca and I returned to the apartment, it was Hailey who answered the door. She feigned surprise, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Oh, Summer, you're back. Let me get you some tea. You really should have called ahead, the place is a bit of a mess." I didn't have the patience for her performance. "I’m just here for Joey." Hearing my voice, my little orange tabby came sprinting from the living room, meowing loudly as he rubbed his head affectionately against my ankles. A flash of malice crossed Hailey's eyes. She reached down, grabbed Joey roughly by his tail, and yanked him backward. "Actually, Otto bought the cat food last week, so technically he’s Otto’s. We'll have to wait for him to decide." "Don't pull his tail like that!" I cried, stepping forward. "You're hurting him!" Hailey let out a sharp scoff. "It’s just a dumb animal. It doesn't feel anything." She gave me a cruel, taunting smile. "See? He doesn't mind." With that, she swung her foot and kicked Joey hard in the ribs. The cat let out a painful screech, and without thinking, I lunged forward to push her away. "Stop it!" "Joey is my cat! Otto never cared about him! You have no right to touch him!" But before my hand could even brush Hailey's shoulder, a hand seized me by my hair and threw me violently to the floor. Otto stood protectively in front of Hailey, his eyes flashing with fury as he glared down at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing to her?" Joey lay on the floor a few feet away, panting heavily. I scrambled over to scoop him into my arms, glare icy with hatred. "Are you blind? She just kicked Joey!" The cat trembled in my arms, licking my fingers weakly. Otto’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before his stubborn pride took over. "Fine," he muttered. "Apologize to Hailey, and then I'll apologize to you. We'll call it even." Even now, he was calculating. Always keeping score, always ensuring he didn't lose an inch of ground to me. I stood up, cradling Joey close to my chest. "I don't want your apology. We're leaving." Otto’s face darkened, and he stepped forward to grab my wrist. Terrified, Joey wriggled out of my arms and jumped to the floor, hissing defensively at Otto and Hailey. Hailey grabbed a heavy outdoor boot from the rack and flung it directly at the cat. "Get out of here, you little rat!" The heavy boot slammed near Joey, sending him into a panic. He bolted out the open door and down the stairwell, disappearing into the night. I tried to run after him, but Otto grabbed my shoulder, dragging me back. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a bizarre, twisted resentment. "Why didn't you chase after me like that when I walked out?" "Is a stupid cat really more important to you than I am?" I didn't have time for his ego. I shook off his grip with all the strength I had left. "Get away from me!" By the time I made it down to the street, Joey was gone. I searched the neighborhood for four agonizing hours. By the time the streetlights flickered on and the air turned freezing, there was still no sign of him. Just as despair began to take hold, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from Otto. [New kitty.] Below the text was a link to a TikTok video. I clicked it. The video showed Otto and Hailey sitting on our old sofa, laughing brightly as they cuddled a sleek Maine Coon kitten. The caption read: [Meet the new Joey.] I had always been a passionate, hot-tempered person, but in that moment, a strange, hollow numbness washed over me. The sheer malice of it left me cold. A toxic cocktail of hatred, grief, and exhaustion bubbled up inside me. For a split second, I wanted to find a weapon and go back up there to end them both. But instead, I collapsed onto the curb and sobbed until my throat was raw. When Becca finally found me, the sun was beginning to rise. My eyes were so swollen I could barely see. She wrapped her coat around my shivering shoulders, immediately calling a local pet rescue group while cursing Otto under her breath. "Why didn't you call me? You just let them treat you like this? Are you out of your mind?" I buried my face in her shoulder, my voice cracking. "I’m so tired, Becca. I can't win against her. I never could." I had never stood a chance against Hailey. She was the childhood sweetheart, the keeper of countless inside jokes and decades of shared memories. Otto would always choose her. The passenger seat of his car belonged to her. His pinned chats belonged to her. His priority list always had her at the top. And now, he was hers too. I didn't care about Otto anymore. I just wanted my cat back. By the time we got back to Becca's apartment, I was burning up with a severe fever. I drifted in and out of a restless sleep, shivering violently under the blankets. Sometime in the afternoon, my phone buzzed with a message from Otto. [I found your cat.] The words shocked me awake. Forcing myself upright despite the dizziness, I threw on a jacket and dragged myself to the address he sent, a private room at the Velvet Lounge. The moment I pushed the door open, the deafening music and drunken cheers hit me like a physical blow. "Man, Otto is a genius! Five words and the ex comes running across town!" "Incredible! She’s totally wrapped around your finger, man!" "Never let a woman keep you on a leash!" I ignored the jeering crowd and looked straight at Otto, silently praying he had a shred of humanity left. "Where is Joey?" He grinned smugly, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I don't know." He reached under the table and pulled out the Maine Coon from his video. "But look at this one. Same breed, basically looks identical." "Stop making a scene. Apologize to Hailey, and I'll let you keep this one." "We can even call her Joey." Hailey giggled from his side. "Actually, let's call her Joey the Second." Tears of sheer humiliation spilled over my cheeks. Otto smiled, looking immensely proud of himself. "Look at that, she's crying tears of joy." Gathering every ounce of strength left in my fever-ravaged body, I stepped forward and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. "I despise you, Otto." Otto’s head snapped to the side. He froze, his hand slowly rising to touch his reddening cheek, staring at me in utter shock. Hailey lunged forward and shoved me hard, sending me crashing against the edge of the table. "Who the hell do you think you are, Summer? How dare you lay a hand on him! He went out of his way to get you a new cat, and this is how you act?" I slowly hauled myself up, my vision swimming, but my voice was deadly calm. "I act this way because I hate him." Without another word, I turned and walked out of the room. But as I reached the end of the dimly lit corridor, my knees gave out, and the world went black. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a hospital bed. A doctor in scrubs was reviewing my chart, looking at me with a stern, disapproving expression. "You're in the early stages of pregnancy and running a dangerously high fever. Collapsing like that in public is incredibly risky. What were you thinking?" I stared at her, the words failing to register. "I'm... what?" The doctor softened her tone slightly. "You're pregnant. About four weeks along." Becca, who had rushed over the moment the hospital called, squeezed my hand tightly, her eyes filled with worry. "Summer... oh my god, what are we going to do? Otto... how could this happen now?" I let out a cold, empty laugh and shook my head. "It doesn't change anything. I'm not keeping it." I looked out the window at the gray sky. "I am never going back to him. Being with him is slow torture. I refuse to be that stupid again." Becca bit her lip, her eyes flashing with anger. "No! An abortion is a serious medical procedure. He needs to know what he’s caused. He needs to take responsibility." "Becca, don't—" But it was too late. Her fingers were already flying across her screen. [Summer is pregnant.] I leaned my head back against the pillow. "It won't matter. Even if he begs, I’ll never forgive him." A minute later, Otto’s name flashed on my screen. I answered, and his slurred, mocking voice filled the quiet room. "Wow, Summer. Are you really this desperate? Is this the best you can do to win an argument?" "Do you think a fake pregnancy is your ultimate trump card?" "Do you honestly think that if you make up some lie about a baby, I’ll crawl back to you and beg for forgiveness?" "Let me tell you something, it means absolutely nothing to me." "It’s just like your stupid cat. I don't care if it lives or dies." "Because I don't care about you." "Go ahead and get your fake abortion. Make sure to send me the medical bill so I can laugh in your face. I, Otto, will never lose to you." The line went dead. Becca turned her head away, her shoulders shaking as she wept silently. But I didn't shed a single tear. I had run out of tears a long time ago. I looked at the nurse entering the room. "Please help me schedule the procedure." On the day of the appointment, as I sat in the cold waiting room, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Otto. [Ahem. It’s my birthday today.] [You know where to find me. Velvet Lounge, Suite 40.] A cold, mocking smile touched my lips. I typed back a quick reply. [I’ll make sure your gift arrives on time.] Becca looked at me, her expression a mix of pity and concern. I gently patted her hand. "Let's return his property to him." The procedure itself felt like an eternity, yet it was over in minutes. The cold metal instruments sent a sharp ache through my abdomen, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the numbness in my chest. When it was over, I stared at the sterile white ceiling, feeling lighter and emptier than I ever had before. I looked at Becca and forced a faint smile. "It's finally over, right?" Two hours later, after my fever had subsided and I had regained some strength, I packed my remaining belongings and headed to the train station. Before boarding the express train to Savannah, I took one last look at the city skyline. When we were together, I had loved him more, so I was always the one to back down, regardless of who was right. But now, the love was gone. I didn't care about who was right or wrong. I didn't care about winning or losing. None of it mattered anymore. Over at the Velvet Lounge, inside the loud, chaotic atmosphere of VIP Suite 40, Otto stared at his phone, typing out a message. [Are you almost here?] But when he hit send, a bright red exclamation mark appeared next to the bubble. Hailey noticed his sour expression and patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't sweat it, Otto. Didn't she say she was sending a gift?" "She’s just trying to make you anxious. Think about it, she was desperate enough to lie about being pregnant just to get you to apologize. There’s nothing she won't do to get your attention." Otto’s tense shoulders relaxed. He knocked back a shot of whiskey, his smug smirk returning. "Who cares about her anyway? If she doesn't get down on her knees and apologize to me tonight, we are never getting back together." Right then, a firm knock sounded on the suite door. A delivery courier stood in the doorway, holding a sealed thermal box. "Delivery for Otto? I need a signature from a Summer Davis."