The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 399

And with that, her silhouette vanished around the corner of the hallway.

Garrison was left speechless.

He stood alone in front of a sprawling breakfast feast, still clutching his fork. His apron hung limply over the chair, and the last fried egg on the counter was still gently steaming.

He looked down at the two bowls of oatmeal, the two sets of silverware, the two perfectly aligned chairs, and let out a quiet laugh. There was no anger in it, no bitterness, just the grim acceptance of a man who had just been slapped in the face by karma and could only say, 'Well played.'

He thought back to a long time ago...

It was right after they had gotten married. Sloane, carrying the slight bump of her pregnancy, would always wake up earlier than him, clumsily navigating the kitchen to make him breakfast.

She wasn't a great cook back then. The eggs were always broken, the oatmeal always boiled over, but she did it every single morning. She would set out two bowls, sit at the table, and wait for him.

And what did he do?

He would walk out of the bedroom, completely ignore the table, grab his briefcase, and walk out the door.

Once, she had chased him all the way to the entryway holding a steaming bowl of soup, her voice a mix of desperate pleading and soft affection. 'Garrison, at least have a bite.'

And he had casually replied, 'I'll grab a coffee at the hospital cafeteria.' He walked out without looking back.

The truth was, he had starved himself on purpose.

Back then, he despised her. He despised her manipulative tactics, despised her fake sweetness, despised the woman who was trying to chain him down for the rest of his life using a child.

He used his icy indifference to turn that table full of food into a daily humiliation she was forced to swallow alone.

Eventually, she stopped cooking altogether...

And now, karma had come full circle.

It was his turn to stand in front of a lovingly prepared breakfast, only to be rejected with a polite smile.

As they pushed the door open, the wind chimes above the frame let out a sharp jingle, and a young man in a crisp white shirt and a navy tie practically launched himself out of his cubicle.

"Welcome! Welcome! I'm Kevin Reed. Are you two looking to rent or buy?"

Kevin looked like he was barely in his twenties, a total rookie. His smile radiated the kind of boundless enthusiasm that hadn't yet been crushed by the brutal reality of the housing market.

His eyes quickly scanned his new clients. The woman was carrying a cello, dressed in a simple gray hoodie, completely makeup-free but radiating an undeniable elegance.

The man, standing half a step behind her, looked slightly older. He wore a sharp black shirt, possessed strikingly handsome features, and carried himself with an imposing, quiet authority.

Kevin couldn't quite figure out their dynamic.

"Are you two..."

"Friends," Garrison and Sloane answered in perfect unison.