Part 1New Focus

When I told Ethan I wanted to break up, he was busy adjusting the settings on his camera.

“Is this because I posted her on my Instagram?”

“Yes.”

He squinted, focusing the lens. “So how long is this one?” he asked with a smile. “A week? Two? Don’t make it too long, I might forget who you are.”

After eleven years, he couldn’t fathom the idea of me actually leaving.

But this time, I was serious.

When college decisions came, he accepted his offer from NYU. I enrolled at UCLA, on the opposite side of the continent.

From then on, we were worlds apart.

In the coffee shop, the shutter clicked. Ethan looked down at the camera's display, smiling at the picture he’d just taken of me.

“I’m saving all of these for our wedding slideshow. I’ve even got the title: ‘My Brattish Girlfriend Who Cried Wolf 100 Times.’”

I kept my face perfectly still. I wasn't joking.

“You know,” he mused, “I can never get the same vibe from you. When I shot Sophie the other day, every frame was perfect.”

He clearly didn't believe a word I'd said.

“I’m serious, Ethan.”

He finally looked up, his smile fading.

“You’re breaking up with me because I posted her on my feed? Clara, seriously? It's just Instagram.”

“Yes, it is.”

Of course it was.

Ethan had used the $2,000 Canon R6 I got him for his birthday to take graduation photos. He posted a nine-photo carousel. Every single shot was a close-up of Sophie.

Our friends commented on how “ethereal” and “effortless” she looked. He replied, “Sophie just has a unique aura.”

My photos? He didn't even keep the RAW files.

He said I was "too stiff" and "didn't know my angles."

“Okay, my little jealous girl. How about I take a bunch of you right now and post a new carousel? Happy?”

He was talking to me like I was a child.

I took a deep breath. “You don’t get it. I don't care about the post.”

“I get it, I get it. Fine. I’ll delete it. Is that what you want?”

I just shook my head. I was so tired of him playing dumb.

“You’re deleting it? Can I at least get the original files first?”

Sophie had materialized at our table, sliding into the booth without asking. She immediately sensed the tension. “What’s wrong? Ethan, did you make Clara mad again?”

Ethan just pouted and said nothing.

Sophie immediately jumped into action.

“Clara, don’t be mad at him. It’s my fault. I begged him to take more pictures of me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a real photoshoot.”

She tugged on Ethan’s sleeve.

“I don’t need the originals. Just delete the post, okay? It’s not worth fighting with your girlfriend over.”

I let out a cold laugh. “Not worth it? Letting my boyfriend take your pictures is a 'small thing'? Using a matching phone case with my boyfriend is a 'small thing'? Secretly changing my boyfriend’s lock screen to a picture of yourself is a 'small thing'?”

“Sophie, how is it that you’re at the center of every single 'small thing' that makes me miserable?”

“If you like him so much, you can have him.”

Sophie’s lip trembled, her eyes instantly welling up.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling the phone case off her phone. “You’re misunderstanding. It’s not like that. I don’t have a family anymore. Ethan’s family... they’re all I have.”

She set the case on the table, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Ethan shot me a look of pure disgust.

“Why are you attacking her? If you’re mad, be mad at me. She didn’t do anything.”

He snatched the phone case and shoved it back into her hand.

I suddenly felt incredibly tired.