Two Years, A Cosmic Lie

I poured every spare dollar from my part-time jobs and scholarships into a scuffed-up piggy bank, dreaming of a future with Chloe and a promise ring that would seal our love. But then I heard her laugh-a laugh that wasn't for me.

Just an hour after I ended things, saying "We're over," my best friend, Liam, walked up, clueless as ever, showing off an expensive watch Chloe had helped him pick out, a watch that screamed what a joke my cheap promise ring was.

I ducked into a stairwell, my heart pounding, and pulled out my phone. In our shared photo album, I found a selfie of Chloe and her friends at a fancy rooftop bar. Zooming in, I saw it-my piggy bank, next to a bottle of champagne, being used as an ashtray. The memory hit me: overhearing Chloe brag to her friends about using me as "A tool, a pawn to make Liam finally notice me," all while calling me "a little charity case" and "so boring."

My world shattered. Two years, all a lie, a game where I was just a prop in her drama with Liam. The cheap daisies I held for her surprise visit were crushed in my hand, my stomach churning with nausea.

I spent the night walking, my mind a blank, howling void. The pain solidified into a cold, hard resolve: I had to disappear.

Five years of isolation. No friends. No family. No Chloe. To me, it sounded less like a punishment and more like a rescue. I went to see Professor Davies and signed up for the Ares Project.

"I'm joining the Ares Project."

The words left my mouth and hung in the air of Professor Davies's office. The room was cluttered with books and half-finished robotic arms, a place that always felt like home.

"Ethan, you're my best student. But the Ares Project... that's five years of total isolation. No contact with the outside world. Are you sure about this?"

Professor Davies looked at me over his glasses, his expression serious. He knew I had a girlfriend, Chloe, and that we had been together for two years. He thought we were planning a future.

I was, too, until yesterday.

"I'm sure," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. I needed this. I needed to disappear.

My gaze drifted to the small, scuffed-up piggy bank on my desk back in my dorm room. It was almost full. I had been saving every spare dollar from my part-time jobs and scholarships, putting it all in there for a promise ring for Chloe. I imagined her face, the way she would smile.

That was before I heard her laugh.

A laugh that wasn't for me.

"We're over." I had said it to her just an hour ago, standing in the doorway of the apartment we were supposed to share after graduation.

She just stared at me, her beautiful face a mask of confusion. "What are you talking about, Ethan?"

Just then, my best friend Liam Hayes walked up, clueless as always. He clapped me on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "Ethan, man! I was just looking for you. Chloe, you're here too."

Chloe's eyes darted between me and Liam. A flicker of panic crossed her face before she smoothed it over. "Ethan's just having a bad day. He doesn't mean it."

"Yeah," I said, my voice flat. "A bad day."

Liam, bless his ignorant heart, pulled a small box from his pocket. "Speaking of good days, I finally got it." He opened it to show a ridiculously expensive-looking watch. "A little something for myself. Chloe, you helped me pick it out. Thanks."

"It looks great on you, Liam," she said, her voice soft and full of an admiration I now knew was real.

I just looked at the watch, then at Chloe, then back at Liam. My stomach churned. The cheap promise ring I was saving for felt like a joke. The extra shifts I worked, the meals I skipped, it all felt like a punchline.

"I have to go," I said, turning away from them both.

I walked away, but I didn't go far. I ducked into a nearby stairwell, my heart pounding. I pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered over her contact, then I went to our shared photo album. We had set it up so our phones would automatically sync. She must have forgotten.

Because there it was. A new photo, uploaded just yesterday. It was a selfie of her and her friends at a fancy rooftop bar. I zoomed in. On the table, next to a bottle of champagne that cost more than my monthly rent, was a small, familiar object.

My piggy bank.

They were using it as an ashtray.

The memory hit me like a physical blow. I was on my way to surprise her yesterday, carrying a bouquet of cheap daisies, the only flowers I could afford. I got to her dorm and the door was slightly ajar. I heard her voice, and the voices of her friends.

"So, Chloe, are you ever going to tell your little charity case who you really are?" one of them asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

Chloe laughed. That laugh. "Are you kidding? The look on Liam's face every time he sees me with Ethan is priceless. He gets so jealous."

"But for two years? With that... commoner? He wears the same two sweaters all winter."

"It's part of the charm, isn't it? Playing the poor, simple girl. Besides, Ethan is so devoted. He's saving up for a ring in that ridiculous little pig. Can you believe it? He thinks we're going to get married and live in some tiny suburban house."

Her words were sharp, each one cutting deeper than the last.

"He's just a tool, a pawn to make Liam finally notice me. Once Liam dumps his current girlfriend and comes crawling back, I'll drop Ethan so fast he won't know what hit him. God, he's so boring. All he talks about is engineering and... feelings."

The group erupted in laughter.

I stood there, outside the door, the cheap daisies crushed in my hand. I felt a wave of nausea so intense I had to lean against the wall. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My two years with her, the love I thought we shared, it was all a lie. A game.

I was just a prop in her drama with Liam.

In the stairwell, I stared at the photo on my phone. The piggy bank, my stupid, hopeful piggy bank, covered in ash. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, a physical ache that stole my breath.

I spent the night walking the campus, my mind a blank, howling void. By morning, the pain had settled into a cold, hard resolve.

That was when I went to see Professor Davies.

Five years of isolation. No friends. No family. No Chloe.

It sounded less like a punishment and more like a rescue.

The next day, I started packing. I moved around our shared apartment with a mechanical purpose, folding clothes and putting books into boxes. Chloe followed me from room to room, her face a mixture of confusion and hurt.

I finished my workout at the campus gym, the burn in my muscles a welcome distraction. When I got back, she was sitting on the couch, waiting.

"Ethan, can we please talk about this?" she asked as I walked past her.

She reached out to grab my arm, her touch soft and familiar. I flinched away like I'd been burned.

"Don't," I said, my voice low and steady.

She pulled her hand back, surprise widening her eyes. "Ethan..."

"I'm tired, Chloe. I'm going to sleep."

She just sat there, watching me with those big, beautiful eyes that I now knew were completely empty. She didn't press the issue. She was good at playing the part of the compliant, gentle girlfriend when it suited her.

I went into the bedroom and closed the door. I lay on the bed, fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling. For the first time in two years, I fell asleep without her next to me. I didn't dream. It was a deep, black, empty sleep.

The sound of clattering woke me up. It was still dark outside. I walked into the living room and saw Chloe standing by the window. She was holding the piggy bank. The one from the picture.

She must have brought it back from her dorm.

"I was just... tidying up," she said, her voice uncertain. She ran a finger over the painted snout of the pig. "It's almost full."

"It's just junk," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. I walked over, took it from her hands, and dropped it into a trash bag filled with old papers and coffee grounds.

The sound it made was a dull thud.

"Ethan, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice sharp with disbelief. "You've been saving that for..."

"For nothing," I interrupted. "It's trash."

My phone rang, saving me from having to explain further. It was Liam.

"Hey, man! Are you and Chloe still fighting?" he asked, his voice cheerful and oblivious.

I looked at Chloe, who was staring at the trash bag as if I'd thrown a live animal in there. A bitter taste filled my mouth.

"Liam," I started, trying to keep my voice even.

"Look, whatever it is, just make up," he continued, completely missing the tension. "You two are perfect for each other. You can't just throw away two years over some stupid argument. And hey, my dad is throwing a party at the lake house this weekend. You guys have to come. It'll be a good way to patch things up."

I let out a short, harsh laugh that sounded more like a cough. "Perfect for each other."

"Yeah, man. You guys are solid. So, are you coming?"

Chloe's head snapped up. Her eyes were fixed on me, wide with a desperate hope. She was thinking about Liam. She wanted to go to that party.

"Let me think about it," I said, my voice cold.

"Alright, but don't take too long. Let me know," he said before hanging up.

I put the phone down and looked at Chloe. Her expression was a carefully constructed mask of concern, but I could see the eagerness underneath. The desperate need to be near Liam.

A question formed in my mind, a cruel, testing question.

"Chloe," I began, my voice quiet. "If Liam and I were both in trouble, and you could only help one of us..."

She cut me off immediately, a bright, practiced smile on her face. "Don't be silly, Ethan. Of course, I would choose you. Always you."