For a moment my mind refused to process what I had heard because the apartment around me contained our shared routines and quiet habits that had once felt safe. Amber laughed again and said, “But she is taking you to Blue Harbor Table for your birthday dinner next week, and that place costs at least four hundred dollars.”
“Exactly,” Dylan answered with bright enthusiasm. “That is why I am keeping her around until after the dinner, then I am finished with the relationship.”
Amber leaned closer to the camera because her voice sounded clearer and louder as she asked him, “Didn’t you match with that finance guy recently.”
“His name is Caleb Turner,” Dylan replied proudly. “I just need my birthday dinner first, then I can say goodbye to medical girl.”
The phrase medical girl hung in the air like a strange insult because my career was apparently nothing more than a convenient label to him. Amber squealed with excitement and asked Dylan to show the contact name he had saved for me. I heard him tapping his screen again before he announced proudly, “Free Food with a money bag emoji.”