I Earned 10000 Points, But My Boyfriend Favors His Stepsister

"Where to?" the cab driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

"An apartment complex near University Avenue," I told him. "Just take the fastest route."

"Rough night?" he asked.

"The longest night of my life," I muttered.

I pulled my phone from my wet pocket and opened the Scorecard app. The screen cast a harsh white glow in the dark backseat. Rows of numbers filled the display, detailing every transaction over the last six years.

*Plus ten. Dropped off high-protein lunch at the gym.*

*Plus fifty. Didn't complain when he forgot our five-year anniversary.*

*Minus one hundred. Annoyed Mia by asking for my car keys back.*

"Look at this," I whispered to the empty air.

Every single point represented a grievance I had swallowed down. I spent all those years fantasizing about hitting ten thousand. Would he look shocked? Would he cry with regret? Would he drop to one knee in front of his team and say, *Elena, I'm sorry I made you wait so long*?

My nails dug into my palms. The sharp sting kept the tears away.

"Stop here," I instructed the driver when Cole's luxury off-campus building came into view.

I paid the fare and marched up the stairs to our shared unit. I dragged my large duffel bag from the hall closet and hauled it into the bedroom. Cole's wrestling singlets and Richmond athletic shirts were folded neatly on the closet shelves right next to my dresses.

"Not anymore," I said.

I yanked my clothes off the hangers, stuffing them into the open duffel on the bed. I didn't bother folding anything.

When I walked past his desk to grab my phone charger, the computer monitor woke up from sleep mode. A folder sat right in the center of the desktop.

*Personal\_Expenses.xlsx*

I clicked it. A spreadsheet opened, documenting years of categorized purchases.

*May 14. Elena's birthday necklace. $50.*

Right below it, dated the exact same day:

*May 14. Mia's 14k gold bracelet. $500.*

"Fifty dollars," I read aloud, my voice shaking. "Five hundred dollars."

I scrolled down, my hand trembling against the mouse.

*March 12. Concert VIP passes. Mia. $300.*

*March 12. On-demand movie rental. Elena. $4.*

*August 2. Weekend trip (3,000 points reward). Budget Motel. $89.*

I remembered that August weekend clearly. Mia had posted a photo of herself at a five-star rooftop lounge overlooking the city skyline on that exact Saturday—a trip Cole had paid for because she claimed she was feeling anxious.

At the very bottom of the document, a note was typed in bold red font:

**"I promised her when her family broke apart that even if I get a girlfriend, she will always come first."**

A dull ache bloomed in my chest. I couldn't even cry. All the hope I had hoarded for six years shattered against those black-and-white numbers.

I shut the laptop screen. I zipped my duffel and dragged it into the living room.

A framed photo sat dead center on the media console. It was a picture taken last Christmas where I stood in the middle, wedged awkwardly between Cole and Mia. I was smiling so carefully in that shot, believing I had finally earned my place in his life.

I snapped the back off the frame, pulled the photo out, and dropped it straight into the kitchen trash can.

The electronic deadbolt on the front door clicked.

Mia walked in first, slipping out of her wet designer boots.

"Elena, you're not asleep?" she asked, her tone entirely casual. "I had a fight with my mom. Cole said I could crash in the guest room for a few days."

Cole stepped inside right behind her, hanging their wet jackets on the wooden rack.

"She's staying here until things cool down at home," he announced, shaking the rain from his hair. "You cool with that?"

In the past, I would have nodded. I would have said yes, and then I would have laid awake at two in the morning, listening to them laugh over a movie in the living room. If I ever complained, Cole would dock a hundred points for 'causing domestic tension,' and I would force myself to stay quiet.

I didn't care about the points anymore.

"You're actually asking me if I have a problem?" I asked.

Cole paused, his hand still on the coat hook.

"In six years, have you ever asked what I wanted once?" I challenged.

I turned my focus directly to Mia.

"You know he has a girlfriend, right?"

Cole's jaw clenched. "She has nowhere else to go tonight, Elena."

"Then move out and rent an apartment with her!" I yelled.

Cole let out a harsh scoff. "Are you going to act completely irrational again?"

"Irrational?" I shot back. "She comes over every time she gets a paper cut! She wears your clothes! She calls you at three in the morning to change a lightbulb in her dorm!"

Mia's eyes instantly welled up. She backed away toward the open hallway.

"I'll go stay at a hotel," she whimpered, her voice cracking softly. "Please don't fight because of me..."

"You know it's because of you!" I snapped. "Best case scenario, you have absolutely zero boundaries. Worst case scenario, you enjoy being the real priority in another woman's relationship!"

Cole's expression darkened. The air in the apartment went freezing cold.

"Apologize to her right now," he demanded.

"Why should I?"

He took a heavy step toward me, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.

"Elena, if you don't apologize to Mia this second, I'm deducting two thousand points from your account."

A loud, bitter laugh burst from my throat. It echoed off the walls.

"Deduct them," I told him, looking straight into his eyes. "Deduct two thousand. Deduct ten thousand. Clear the entire damn board."

I grabbed the handle of my duffel bag and walked toward the door.

"Stop right there," Cole ordered.

He reached out and grabbed my forearm. His grip was tight, the grip of a Division I wrestler used to controlling bodies.

I looked down at his hand. A thin silver band wrapped around his ring finger.

My gaze shifted to Mia's hand, clutching her purse by the entry table. She wore the exact same silver band.

My own left ring finger was completely bare.

I yanked my arm violently out of his grasp and held my empty hand right in front of his face.

"I waited six years, Cole."

He stared at my bare fingers, his brow furrowing.

"I waited for you to wear matching rings with her," I said, my voice shaking with fury. "I waited to find a spreadsheet on your computer that explicitly says I will always be second place!"

Cole's face drained of color.

"You went through my laptop?" he asked, his voice suddenly hollow.

"Is that seriously your only takeaway?"

He took a quick breath, running a hand through his damp hair.

"I made a promise to her," he started, his words rushing out in a defensive flurry. "When her parents divorced, she was terrified of being abandoned. I promised her she would always have family. It isn't romantic, Elena. It's just—"

"Just what?" I cut him off. "Just that I'm supposed to accept being second forever?"

"You don't understand," Cole argued. "She's family."

"She isn't your blood," I replied. "And I was supposed to be your wife."

"You still can be!" Cole shouted, stepping closer. "Just stop acting like an insecure child! You're ruining everything we built over nothing!"

"Nothing?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Six years of my life is nothing to you?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

Mia sobbed quietly by the doorway. Neither of us looked at her.

"Cole, I'm done waiting."

I swung my right hand and slapped him across the face.

The sharp crack silenced the room. His head snapped to the side. A bright red handprint flared across his cheekbone.

He stood completely frozen, his dark eyes wide with utter shock. He didn't speak.

I didn't give him a second glance. I gripped my duffel bag, pushed past Mia, and walked out into the rain.