The Day I Was Done With Your Crazy Love

The day Spencer and I got engaged,

His childhood friend threw a huge scene at our party.

She even slashed her wrists.

The engagement ceremony was cancelled.

And I was just… done.

0Outside the emergency room, everyone was frantic, Spencer included.

Only my expression remained cold, utterly drained.

“They’re coming out, they’re coming out…”

The ER lights went off, the doors swung open, and a doctor in a white coat emerged.

“She’s fine, we saved her.”

I saw everyone sigh in relief, myself included.

I took off my veil, holding it in my hand, and dragged my long dress toward a visibly relieved Spencer. He saw me approaching, took my hand, a weary smile on his face. “Thank god she’s okay.”

Yeah, thank god she’s okay. If anything had really happened, not only would Spencer have been crushed, but so would I. I’m not the kind of person who would let my love push someone else to their death, am I?

Spencer, at his parents’ insistence, went with Willow to her hospital room. I slumped onto a chair in the hospital corridor, leaning against the wall. Soon, four people stood before me.

Willow’s mother’s eyes were red-rimmed. “Brooke, I know you’re a good girl, but you’ve seen how much Willow loves Spencer. If you two stay together, who knows? One of these times, she might not make it.”

Willow’s father looked at me with hostility. “Willow and Spencer grew up together; we always assumed they’d end up together. Spencer choosing you now is just youthful folly. Once he matures, he’ll realize he belongs with Willow.”

Spencer’s mother looked at me pleadingly. “I know this sounds unfair to you, but could you please do Spencer and Willow this favor? I know my son. He might seem indifferent, but deep down, he’s heartbroken. They share such a long history.”

Spencer’s father was fuming, giving me a disgusted look. “I never agreed to them being together in the first place. You kept saying, ‘they’re young, they have their own choices.’ This is all your fault for spoiling him; otherwise, none of this would’ve happened today.”

Their goal was unanimous: to force Spencer and me to break up.

Spencer and I had been together for three years.

Every time we got a little intimate,

Willow would fall into a deep depression.

She’d taken sleeping pills at least ten times,

Gone to the rooftop seven times, and slashed her wrists five times.

Each time, Spencer was consumed by guilt and self-reproach.

Our relationship felt like a secret affair.

Like we were working undercover.

I felt like his dirty little secret.

We finally managed to get engaged on the sly.

And then she just showed up out of nowhere and cut her wrist.

He’s not some rare gem, you know. Good guys are everywhere.

But she just had to choose to try and end her life.

She must be completely out of her mind.

Honestly, they didn’t even need to pressure me. After today’s stunt, I was already terrified. I was afraid Willow would actually die. I’d carry that guilt forever.

I was also afraid that Willow had serious mental issues.

And what if Spencer, her childhood sweetheart, caught whatever she had?

I couldn’t risk it. I valued my life too much.

But a breakup needed to happen face-to-face.

“Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, you don’t need to convince me. I’ve already decided to break up with Spencer.”

I pushed myself up from the floor.

“Since Willow’s stable, I’m heading back. I’m truly exhausted.”

Under the stunned gazes of the four adults, I calmly walked toward the exit.

Back at the apartment Spencer and I shared, I went to bed without a second thought. My words today were enough to ensure those adults would pull out all the stops to keep Spencer by Willow’s side.

Sure enough, Spencer didn’t come home all night, and there wasn’t a single call.

We were breaking up anyway; I didn’t care if he came back or not.

In college, Spencer pursued me for four whole years. He said I was his first love. After graduation, he followed me to my city. I saw how persistent he was, which is why I reluctantly agreed to be with him.

If I’d known he had a childhood friend who threatened to end her life every other day,

I wouldn’t have agreed to be with him even if you’d killed me.

Three days later, Spencer finally returned. His face was etched with exhaustion.

Seeing me, his eyes filled with a pained vulnerability. “Brooke, I’m so tired.”

Seeing his weariness and longing, I felt a pang of pity.

But if I stayed with him, I’d live in constant fear.

A sense of utter powerlessness washed over me.

Hesitation only leads to trouble.

I slipped off the ring on my finger and held it out to him. “Spencer, we’re not right for each other. Let’s just end it.”

The fatigue on Spencer’s face instantly froze, replaced by a bewildered disbelief, like he’d just been doused with ice water.

He grabbed my hand. “Brooke? What are you saying? End what? Is it because I haven’t been back for a few days? Let me explain, Willow, she…”

I yanked my hand back, the ring almost falling to the floor. “Stop. Don’t even mention Willow. Just hearing her name makes me sick to my stomach, and it makes me sick to look at you too.”

I walked around him, heading straight for the walk-in closet, pulling out my largest suitcase. “This has nothing to do with your childhood friend. It’s purely because I feel like being with you is shortening my life.”

He blocked the closet doorway, his tall frame casting a shadow, his eyes red-rimmed. “Shortening your life? Brooke! We were together four years in college, three years working. You’re throwing all that away just because I’ve been taking care of Willow?” He pleaded, “Don’t you know how I feel about you? I love you.”

I scoffed, shoving clothes haphazardly into the suitcase. “Spencer, your love is too heavy. It comes with a ‘childhood friend’ who might bleed out any minute.” I snapped, “Your love means I have to live every day under the shadow of ‘what if she really dies and we’re the culprits?'” I shook my head, “Sorry, but I value my life. I can’t play these heart-stopping games.”

I forcefully snapped the suitcase shut, the zipper grating loudly. “Here’s your ring. Let’s part on good terms. As for this apartment, live in it if you want, or sell it. Just send half the money to my account.”

“I don’t agree!” he roared, grabbing the suitcase handle. “Why do you get to decide we’re over? What did I do wrong? Just because I’ve been taking care of her for the past few days? Brooke, it was a matter of life and death! Can’t you be less cold-blooded?”

I almost laughed, enraged. I tried to pull the suitcase back, but he wouldn’t budge. “Fine, I’ll tell you exactly why I’m ending it. Because I’m sick of it.”

I paused, staring him down. “I’m sick of your childhood friend who tries to hurt herself at the drop of a hat.”

“I’m sick of you rushing off like a firefighter every time she stirs.”

“I’m sick of both your families giving me those looks, treating me like I’m the other woman.”

“And most of all, I’m sick of this constant dread, terrified that one day I’ll open my phone and see news of her successful suicide, and then everyone, including you, will look at me with ‘it’s all your fault’ eyes.”

My voice was raw with frustration. “Spencer, your love is honey-laced poison. I’m afraid to die. I’m not taking another bite, okay?”

I gave up on the suitcase, turning to grab another bag for my valuables. “Let go. Don’t make me call the cops and accuse you of unlawful detainment.”

He seemed pinned to the spot by my words, his hand on the handle loosening then tightening, his gaze tormented and confused. “It’s not like that… Brooke, I love you… Willow, she’s just… she’s sick, she needs help…”

“She needs a psychiatrist, not your endless indulgence and your entire family’s spineless pandering.” I grabbed my bag and laptop. “Move. I waited this long just to make things clear. I’m leaving tonight. Don’t make me say uglier things.”

He finally, wearily, moved aside, like his backbone had been removed. He leaned against the doorframe, watching me drag my suitcase, walking toward the main door without a backward glance.

The moment the door clicked shut, I heard a stifled, animalistic growl from inside.

I moved into a hotel, but the world didn’t become quiet.

Spencer’s calls, SnapChats, and texts were a relentless bombardment. From initial pleas and apologies, they escalated to accusations and blame, finally transforming into a kind of obsessive persistence.

He demanded an answer. “Why, Brooke? Tell me why?” His voice on the phone was hoarse and agitated. “Willow has pulled stunts before; you never cared then. I love you so much, and you love me too. What did I do wrong? Just tell me!”

I leaned against the cold hotel window, watching the endless stream of car lights below. A profound weariness seeped from my bones. I cut short his frantic questioning. “Spencer, I made it very clear that day.” I stated firmly, “Love isn’t a magic shield. Your love won’t solve Willow’s problems, nor will it erase the fear her constant threats of suicide bring me. I’m tired. I don’t want to live like this anymore, always on edge. We…”

Before I could finish, his other phonethe one he’d assigned Willow’s special ringtone tosuddenly blared an ear-splitting alarm. My heart sank. Sure enough, the next second, his hurried voice came through: “Brooke, wait. Willow… her mom called, she’s not doing well again, I have to go…”

The call was abruptly cut, leaving only a dial tone. I held my phone, listening to the monotonous “beep-beep,” and a cold sense of absurdity washed over me.

See? This was the answer.

There would always be something more important, more urgent than me. There would always be a “not doing well” Willow, potentially harming herself, ready to sever his connection with me without a moment’s hesitation. Even as he was desperately asking why I didn’t love him.

My heart was exhausted. More exhausted than it had ever been.

A wild thought took root: Leave this city. Escape far away, let all these horrible people and things go to hell. But my finger scrolled across my phone screen, seeing the urgent project updates in my WhatsApp group chat. The impulse was immediately stifled. Give up years of hard-earned career stability for a man? Not worth it.

I had broken up with Spencer, and I thought I’d finally be free of them. But Spencer kept showing up at my office, trying to ambush me. Each time, I ignored him, making my resolve to end things abundantly clear.

I managed to avoid Spencer, but I couldn’t avoid Willow.

She showed up directly downstairs from my office, dressed in a plain white dress.

“Brooke, please, will you give Spencer back to me? I really can’t live without him… Last time I cut my wrist, I truly wanted to die. I really wanted to set you two free.” Tears welled in her eyes. “But Spencer didn’t want me to die; he still loves me. So if you just give Spencer back, I can live. Please, save my life.”

She grabbed my arm, her fingers icy cold and trembling nervously. A wave of intense irritation surged through me. I violently shook off her hand, stepping back to create distance. “Willow, listen carefully: First, Spencer and I are over. Completely over.” I held up a finger, “Second, he’s not an object; there’s no such thing as ‘giving him back.’ And third, your life is yours. Whether you can live or not has nothing to do with me or Spencer. If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Don’t bother me.”

My coldness seemed to provoke her. She suddenly looked up, tears still clinging to her lashes, but her eyes now held a frantic glint. “You’re lying! You haven’t broken up at all. You’re definitely still seducing him, otherwise why would he keep looking for you? Why won’t he come back to me? It’s all because of you, because you’re in this city!”

She stepped closer, her voice turning shrill. “Leave! You leave here! As soon as you’re gone, Spencer will give up on you and come back to me. Just go!”

I almost burst out laughing, completely incredulous. “Are you out of your mind? Whether I break up or leave is my freedom. It’s not for you to dictate! I’ll say it one last time: Stay away from me.”

“You won’t leave, will you?” The vulnerability on her face instantly morphed into a desperate, ruthless determination. “Fine! Fine! If you won’t leave, I’ll die right here in front of you, right outside your office! I’ll make sure everyone sees that you stole my boyfriend and then drove me to my death!”

Another death threat. I annoyedly turned my face away, just wanting to get away from this crazy woman. “If you’re going to die, do it somewhere far away. Don’t contaminate my sight.”

With that, I turned to walk away, dismissing her as mere theatrics.

However, I underestimated her impulsiveness, or rather, her sheer madness.

“Screech… Screech” A deafening shriek and the sharp screech of tires echoed behind me. I spun around, my heart stopping coldWillow had actually run into traffic.

A black sedan skidded to a halt, almost grazing her body. The shaken driver stuck his head out, yelling obscenities. “You freaking suicidal maniac! Go off and die quietly somewhere; don’t try to frame me!”

Willow was sprawled in the middle of the road, barely half a meter from the car’s bumper, her face ashen, trembling uncontrollably.