After my fiancé betrayed me and kicked me out, I was lost, with nowhere to go. As I sat on the cold steps, surrounded by my belongings, I found a letter from a stranger asking for help. I didn’t know who she was or why she wrote to me, but I had nothing left to lose, so I decided to find out. I was dragging myself back home, my feet aching from the long hours I’d spent on them. It felt good to be done, but I could still feel the stress clinging to me like a heavy weight. Two shifts back-to-back weren’t easy, but I had to do it. We needed the money.

Stan, my fiancé, had been out of work for half a year. He said it was just temporary, that he’d find a job soon. But each day, I’d see him lounging around, watching TV or scrolling through his phone, and I’d wonder if he was even trying. Still, I kept hoping things would change. I loved him, after all. When I finally opened the door to our tiny apartment, I immediately heard noises coming from the bedroom. Loud, strange noises. Could it be…? No, I must’ve been imagining things.

Stan wouldn’t do that to me. I pushed open the bedroom door, and everything inside me froze. There was Stan, tangled up with someone else—a waitress from my job, no less. For a second, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“You jerk!” I shouted, grabbing a lamp and hurling it at him. It missed, but I didn’t care. “Rachel, you’ve got it all wrong!” Stan said, raising his hands like he was trying to calm me down. “Wrong? You’re both naked, in our bed! How could I see this any other way?” I yelled, my voice cracking. “We… we were checking for mites,” he stammered, barely able to look at me. I just stared at him, stunned by how pathetic that excuse was.

“Are you serious? Do you even hear yourself?! You’re a liar, a coward, and the biggest scumbag I’ve ever known!” I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. It hit him, but he just stood there, still trying to act like he was in control. “Rachel, calm down. Let’s talk about this like adults,” he said, his voice weirdly calm. “You want to talk now? After all this?” I snapped. “I don’t want to hear another word. Get out of my apartment!” “You can’t even pay for it!” I yelled. “You’re broke, Stan. How can you act like this?”

“I’ll manage,” he replied, sounding calm, like this was nothing to him. Twenty minutes later, I was outside, surrounded by my things. I picked up my engagement ring, my hand shaking. “I hope you rot in hell!” I screamed, throwing the ring at him as hard as I could. Stan bent down, picked it up, and smirked. “There’s how I’ll pay the rent,” he said, shutting the door before I could grab it back.

“Jerk!” I yelled, kicking the door. Pain shot up my foot, but I didn’t care. I sank down on the stairs, burying my face in my hands, feeling completely lost and defeated. A few minutes later, I heard the door creak open. I looked up, half-hoping for an apology, but Stan just poked his head out and tossed my mail at me. “Here,” he said, like I was nothing, and shut the door again, leaving me on the cold, hard steps.