I never believed in “pauses” in relationships — it’s either on or it’s off. But when Jack said he needed time to “work on himself,” I let him go, hurt but hopeful. Six weeks of silence followed, until he texted me like nothing had happened. “I’m back. Let’s talk tomorrow,” he wrote — as if I’d been waiting.

When he showed up, he brought flowers and big plans about “us.” Then my dog walked into the room — the one I adopted during his absence. Jack turned pale. “You replaced me,” he said. “I was testing you.” Turns out, the whole “break” was a loyalty trap — to see if I’d get a dog while he was gone.

“You faked a mental health crisis to test if I’d stay ‘loyal’?” I asked. “I was going to propose!” he shouted, like that made any of it okay. I opened the door and said calmly, “You need to leave.” He left furious. I stayed peaceful — next to my dog, who never once made me prove my love.

The next day, he ranted on social media. His mom called to apologize. My friends sent memes. And I? I moved on. I didn’t fail a test — I passed on a lifetime of walking on eggshells. Now I have quiet mornings, real love (fur included), and zero tolerance for emotional games. No more pauses — ever.