For months I paid for dinners, gifts, and even his emergencies, until I accidentally overheard the cruelest taunt: “You’re just free food”; the worst part wasn’t the humiliation, but discovering that all his gestures had been an act.

I entered the apartment quietly and noticed a pair of unfamiliar sneakers by the door which immediately caught my attention. Mitch had told me he would be out that afternoon with his gym friend, a woman named Tessa who was always a bit too present in his life.

Tessa was the kind of person whose name appeared in every conversation and Instagram story, often involving private jokes that never felt quite right to me. I placed the cake carefully on the kitchen counter and then I heard her genuine, unfiltered laughter coming from my bedroom.

I was planning to call out to him until I heard the words that were coming out of his mouth while the door was slightly ajar. “I just changed her name on my phone to Free Food,” Mitch said while laughing as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world.

Tessa’s voice came through his phone speaker as she told him he was absolutely terrible for saying such a thing. “It is the truth because the free dinners and the free rides basically finance my entire lifestyle,” he replied while they both laughed together.

I stood completely motionless with my hand still resting on the cake box as I felt everything finally settle inside of my mind. It was not a moment of confusion or doubt because the clarity of the situation was suddenly as sharp as a surgical blade.

At that moment, I understood exactly who Mitch was and he had absolutely no idea what was about to happen next. I did not go into the bedroom to confront them or throw the expensive cake in his face despite the brief impulse to do so.

I decided that ninety dollars of fine chocolate was not going to be wasted on a man who could not tell the difference between love and convenience. I went back to the kitchen to place the box neatly on the counter before I pulled out my cell phone to take care of business.

Six weeks prior, I had made a very expensive reservation for his birthday at a luxury restaurant that Mitch loved to brag about to his coworkers. It was one of those places with dim lighting and a tasting menu that required a massive non-refundable deposit.

I opened the app and saw that the dinner was scheduled for Saturday evening at half past seven. The policy of the restaurant stated that a cancellation without losing the deposit was only possible up to forty-eight hours in advance.