I Was His Doormat for Three Years—Then I Walked Away and He Lost It

When I got home, my boyfriend couldn't even be bothered to get off her. All because I was his doormat girlfriend. If I didn't want to break up, I had to endure it. As I listened to their ragged, mingled breathing, I received a text from my family pressuring me to get married. So I immediately broke up with the boyfriend I'd spent three years groveling for and started going on blind dates back home. My friend asked, "You like Ralph so much, can you really let him go?" I scoffed, "I'm not stupid. Someone like him is fine for a casual fling, but if I actually married him, wouldn't I be miserable for the rest of my life?" But then, suddenly, a dark, familiar voice came from nearby. "Oh, so this is your reason for dumping me?" ***** When I dragged my luggage through the front door, Ralph Capet was on top of a woman. She hadn't even finished undressing; her loose black sweater was pulled up over her ample chest. I recognized her as a cheerleader from the competition—Barbara, a pretty girl in her early twenties. The moment I walked in, Barbara shrieked, and Ralph looked over with a fierce glare. I tactfully closed the door and retreated to the hallway to wait. After a while, Ralph walked out wearing just a pair of jeans, his arm around Barbara. He was shirtless, his muscular upper body on display, droplets of water sliding down his chiseled muscles. He lazily lit a cigarette and blew a mouthful of smoke into Barbara's face, so she punched him. Ralph casually tossed a Chanel handbag to her. "Take it." Barbara's eyes lit up. She turned and lunged at Ralph, shrieking, "Ah! It's the latest limited edition. Where did you get it?" "Picked it up the last time I was in Paris," he said casually. "I really love it. Thank you, Ralphie!" Barbara wanted to cling to him a little longer, but Ralph was getting impatient. He frowned slightly and pushed her away. "Alright, get going now." The girl climbed off him, pouting. Half annoyed and half coquettish, she said, "How heartless. Just now you were calling me sweetheart, and now you're kicking me out just like that." She wasn't actually angry. Bag in hand, she happily blew Ralph a kiss. "I'm off. See you tomorrow." Only after she left did I step out from behind the hallway door. Ralph seemed to only now remember I existed. He paused, but then, recalling that I'd interrupted his fun, clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" I looked at him for a moment. "It's late. I was afraid calling would wake you up." His body was scattered with hickeys and bite marks, yet he didn't seem remotely guilty. He slung an arm around me and hauled me inside. "I'm hungry. Fix me something." He sat on the sofa and turned on the TV, telling me to make food as if nothing had happened. When I didn't budge, he frowned. "What's wrong?" Then he seemed to realize something, and a lazy smile crossed his face. "Miss me?" So Ralph got up and came over to hug me from behind. His hot breath fanned across my neck, tickling me. His palm slowly crept under my shirt. "Then I'll eat you first, then dinner," he said, his voice thick. Ralph was a top-tier racer. His hands were too strong to be gentle, and the women he slept with always ended up with bruises. I would beg him to go easier, but Ralph always brushed it off. I closed my eyes and pushed him away wearily.