“Sorry, I’m late.”

“Late for the 38^th time,” she said. But he was far too eager to grab a dinner to hear what she just said. And she, too tired and numb to make a fuss out of it, let it all slip away, just like all the other nights.

Just an hour past midnight, he drove her home and told her he loves her more than anything else. She for a minute believed it, and realized it sounded more like a song stuck in repeat. As she lay in bed that night, waiting for sleep to take her away from the real world, she reminisced the days when things weren’t the same as it is now. Those happy days, when she didn’t need to wait for him for 2 hours or better yet, got stood up. She missed those days when she was sure he’s in love with her.  Those days when the thought of him cheating on her for the 4^th time doesn’t linger on her mind. With these, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep dreaming of the elusive happy ever after she wanted.

They were the perfect couple, or that’s what other’s thought they were. Little did everyone know, damage has been wrecking havoc in their relationship. She did everything to save the love they cherished when all he did was add insult to the injury. She gave him chances, too many chances. She remembered the first time she saw him with lips locked with another girl. “Give me a second chance. I love you! I swear nothing like that will ever happen again,” she remembered hearing his voice begging her not to leave. She stayed, for too long a time, even after he cheated on her for two more times.

Another lazy day is soon to pass when her phone beeped. It was a text message from him telling her to meet him at their favorite cafe. For the first time in months, she felt really excited about going on a date with him. For unknown reasons she can’t explain, she knew something good is about to happen tonight.

She glanced at her watch. It’s only 7:45 pm. She’s fifteen minutes earlier than the agreed time. So she readied herself, freshened up and waited with fingers crossed. She glanced again at her watch, it 8:05. ”He’s late again.”

At 8:51, the man she so loved entered the cafe with a handful of roses in one hand and a huge teddy bear on the other. “Happy anniversary, my dear! Sorry, I’m late.”

“You’re too late,” she said with an anguished breath. She stood up, walked past her boyfriend, put on her headphones and played the songs he never liked. Just before she reached the cafe’s door, she turned back and saw him frozen in shock. “Oh I forgot. Our anniversary’s six months away. You must have confused our date with that of your other girls.” With that, she finally realized she had enough of martyrdom, of being only a second option.

As she walked her way to the bus station, she saw her now ex boyfriend running after her on her peripheral vision. He is too late now. He already ran out of chances. She is accepting no more excuses, no more buts and ifs. She climbed the bus that will get her far from him, and forward to a new beginning. Seating alone in a sea of strangers, one insight struck her. She would have sustained less damage if only she did this earlier. She realized she did it rather too late.