He showed up unannounced at my door weeks after I’d finally changed the locks. There stood my ex, holding a flimsy plastic bag like some kind of peace offering. I peeked inside – a carton of eggs and some cheap bologna. Really? This was his grand romantic gesture after everything? I took the bag just to make him leave faster, shaking my head as I closed the door.
The universe must have been laughing at me that day. Not three hours later, I ran into our friend Mark at the gas station. “Saw Alex earlier,” he mentioned casually. “He was telling everyone how he completely filled your refrigerator with groceries.” I nearly choked on my coffee. That pathetic little bag was his version of “stocking my fridge from top to bottom”? The absurdity of it finally made me realize – I’d dodged a bullet the size of his ego.
