Sarah Kim didn't answer when Ethan called.
He tried three times over two days. Each call went to voicemail. Each voicemail went unreturned.
Finally, he sent a text:
Sarah, I know you don't want to talk to me. I understand why. But I need to apologize for how I treated you during our relationship. Can we meet? Just once?
The response came six hours later:
Why now, Ethan? You had two years to see me. To actually be present. Why does it suddenly matter?
He typed carefully:
Because I'm trying to become a better person. Because you deserved better than what I gave you. Because I want to understand what I did wrong so I never do it again.
Three dots appeared and disappeared multiple times. Then:
Fine. Coffee tomorrow. 2 PM. The place on Fifth Street. But I'm bringing Mason.
Ethan stared at the name. Mason. His former best friend. The man Sarah had left him for.
The system pulsed:
[EMOTIONAL CHALLENGE DETECTED]
Confronting Sarah requires facing Mason as well. This is part of the lesson. They are happy together because Mason gave her what you refused to.
Accept the discomfort.
Ethan replied to Sarah:
That's fair. I'll see you both tomorrow.
***
That night, Ethan researched emotional neglect in relationships.
The articles described patterns he recognized immediately. Being physically present but emotionally absent. Prioritizing work over connection. Treating a partner like a convenience rather than a person.
One article listed warning signs:
- Dismissing partner's feelings as overreactions
- Canceling plans repeatedly for work
- Not remembering important details about partner's life
- Treating quality time as optional
- Being present but distracted (phone, laptop, mentally elsewhere)
- Responding to bids for connection with indifference
Ethan had done all of it.
Another article described the partner's experience: Feeling invisible in your own relationship. Questioning whether you matter. Slowly erasing yourself to avoid conflict.
That was Sarah. For two years, she'd slowly disappeared while Ethan barely noticed.
He pulled up old text message threads.
Sarah had tried. Constantly.
*Can we have dinner together tonight? Just us?*
Ethan's response: *Big presentation tomorrow. Need to prep. Rain check?*
*I got the promotion at work! Want to celebrate?*
Ethan: *Congrats! Can't tonight though. Deadline crunch.*
*I miss you. We haven't had a real conversation in weeks.*
Ethan: *I know, things are crazy right now. It'll calm down soon.*
It never calmed down. He'd always found another reason to postpone connection. Another priority that mattered more than her.
The last message thread before the breakup was devastating:
Sarah: *I feel like I'm disappearing. Like I'm not real to you anymore.*
Ethan: *You're being dramatic. I'm just busy.*
Sarah: *That's the problem. You think my feelings are drama.*
Ethan: *Can we talk about this later? I have a call in five minutes.*
Sarah: *There's always something in five minutes.*
No response from Ethan. He'd gone to his call and forgotten about the conversation entirely.
Two days later, she'd sent the text about Mason.
***
The coffee shop was small and deliberately neutral.
Ethan arrived early. Ordered coffee he didn't drink. Sat at a corner table and watched the door.
Sarah and Mason walked in together at 2:03.
Sarah looked different. Lighter somehow. Her smile was genuine as she talked to Mason. He listened attentively, responded with his full attention. Made her laugh.
Ethan saw what he'd never given her: presence.
They approached the table. Mason's expression was guarded but not hostile. Sarah sat down with visible tension.
Thank you for meeting me, Ethan said.
Let's just get this over with, Sarah replied. Why did you want to talk?
To apologize. To tell you that I understand now what I did to you. How I neglected you. Made you invisible. Treated our relationship like it was optional.
Sarah's jaw tightened. Okay. So you understand. What do you want from me? Forgiveness?
No. I want you to know that you were right. About everything. I was emotionally unavailable. I prioritized work over you constantly. I dismissed your feelings. I made you feel like you didn't matter.
Mason spoke for the first time: Why now? Why does it suddenly matter to you?
Ethan looked at him. Because I experienced what it's like to be invisible. To work hard and be dismissed. To need acknowledgment and receive none. And I realized I did that to Sarah for two years.
Sarah was quiet for a moment. Then: Do you know what it was like? Loving someone who was never there?
Tell me.
***
Sarah talked for twenty minutes.
She described the early days. How attentive Ethan had been initially. How he'd made her feel special. Then the slow fade as work consumed him.
I'd plan dates and you'd cancel last minute. I'd share accomplishments and you'd say 'that's great' without looking up from your laptop. I'd try to talk about my day and you'd clearly be thinking about yours.
Mason sat quietly, hand resting supportively on Sarah's arm.
She continued: I started making myself smaller. Asking for less. Needing less. Because every time I asked for your attention, I felt like a burden. Like I was interrupting something more important.
You weren't a burden, Ethan said.
But you made me feel like one. Every time you chose work over me. Every time you said 'later' and later never came. Every time you forgot something important because you weren't actually listening when I told you.
Ethan felt the weight of it. I'm sorry, Sarah.
Do you know when I knew it was over? Sarah asked. Really over?
When?
Your mother called. Said she hadn't heard from you in months. Asked if you were okay. And I realized—you'd abandoned her too. It wasn't just me. You abandoned everyone who wasn't useful to your career.
The words hit hard because they were true.
Sarah leaned forward. I loved you, Ethan. Really loved you. But loving you was like loving a ghost. You were physically there but emotionally gone. I was in a relationship alone.
Mason finally spoke again: She'd cry herself to sleep wondering what she did wrong. Wondering why she wasn't enough. I watched it destroy her.
Ethan looked at Mason. And you were there for her.
I listened. I was present. I did the bare minimum that any partner should do. Mason's voice was firm but not cruel. The bar was on the floor, Ethan. And you still couldn't clear it.
Sarah touched Mason's hand. He showed me what a real relationship looks like. Where both people show up. Where I don't have to beg for attention.
I'm glad you found that, Ethan said, meaning it. You deserved it all along.
***
They talked for another hour.
Sarah described specific moments. The birthday dinner where Ethan had been on his phone the entire time. The weekend trip they'd planned where he'd brought his laptop and worked both days. The anniversary he'd forgotten completely.
Each story was a small death. A moment where Sarah had needed connection and received nothing.
And the worst part? Sarah said. I started believing it was my fault. That I was too needy. Too demanding. That I should be grateful for whatever scraps of attention you gave me.
That's gaslighting, Mason said quietly.
I didn't mean to—Ethan started.
Intent doesn't matter, Sarah interrupted. Impact matters. And the impact was that I lost myself trying to be small enough for you to notice me.
Ethan sat with that. You're right. I'm sorry.
Sarah studied him. You're different now. I can see it. What happened to you?
Ethan told them. About the system. About experiencing Jamie's, Chen's, Robert's, and Marcus's lives. About the fifty-eight transgressions and fifty-four careers remaining.
Sarah listened with growing understanding. So you're learning empathy by force.
Yes.
And in three days, you'll experience my side of our relationship?
Yes. I'll understand what it was like to love someone who was never there.
Sarah was quiet for a long moment. Then: I don't forgive you yet, Ethan. What you did hurt too much. But I appreciate you finally seeing it. Finally acknowledging the harm.
That's fair.
And honestly? Sarah glanced at Mason. I'm grateful for how things turned out. Mason is everything I needed. Everything you weren't. So in a weird way, you leaving me emotionally available for something real.
I'm glad something good came from it, Ethan said.
***
After they left, Ethan sat alone in the coffee shop for another hour.
The system pulsed:
[OPTIONAL PREPARATION TASK COMPLETED]
Met with Sarah Kim and Mason: +30 Points
Listened without defensiveness: +20 Points
Acknowledged harm without excuses: +25 Points
Current Readiness: 75/100
Note: One more preparation task will maximize understanding.
What task? Ethan wondered.
[BONUS PREPARATION TASK]
Examine your current capacity for emotional presence. Can you be vulnerable? Can you connect authentically? Or are you still the person who keeps others at arm's length?
Test yourself.
Ethan thought about it. Who could he be emotionally present with?
His mother. He'd been visiting regularly. But was he really present, or just physically there?
He decided to find out.
***
That evening at Shady Pines, Ethan sat with Margaret.
Instead of doing puzzles or playing cards, he asked: Mom, can we just talk? About real things?
Margaret looked surprised. Of course, sweetheart. What do you want to talk about?
You. Your life. What it was like raising me alone. I realized I never really asked.
Margaret's eyes filled with tears. You want to know about that?
I do. Really.
So she told him. About his father leaving when Ethan was two. About working two jobs while raising a child. About the exhaustion and fear and determination to give him opportunities she never had.
Ethan listened. Actually listened. Didn't check his phone. Didn't think about other things. Just focused completely on his mother's words.
She talked for an hour. About sacrifices she'd made. Dreams she'd deferred. Loneliness she'd endured so Ethan could have better.
When she finished, Ethan was crying.
I never knew, he said. I never asked. I'm sorry, Mom.
You're asking now, Margaret said gently. That's what matters.
He hugged her—really hugged her—for the first time in years.
The system pulsed:
[BONUS TASK COMPLETED]
Practiced genuine emotional presence: +25 Points
Current Readiness: 100/100
MAXIMUM READINESS ACHIEVED
You are learning to connect. To be present. To see people beyond their utility.
This will make Sarah's experience more comprehensible but no less painful.
***
The remaining two days passed in reflection.
Ethan read books about emotional intelligence. About attachment theory. About how neglect in relationships causes trauma as real as physical harm.
He wrote a letter to Sarah that he didn't send. An apology that detailed every specific harm. Every canceled plan. Every dismissed feeling. Every moment of absence.
Writing it helped him understand the pattern. He hadn't been busy. He'd been avoidant. Incapable of genuine intimacy. Using work as a shield against vulnerability.
Sarah had wanted connection. Ethan had wanted control. Those were incompatible.
On the final night, Ethan's phone buzzed.
A message from the previous system user:
Career 5 will be different. It's not about labor or theft. It's about emotional presence. About learning to let someone in. The system will make you feel what Sarah felt. Prepare to be uncomfortable.
Ethan replied: I'm ready.
The response: No, you're not. No one ever is. But you'll survive it. And you'll be better for it.
***
At 11:58 PM, Ethan lay in bed watching the countdown.
[CAREER 5: SARAH KIM BEGINNING IN 2 MINUTES]
He thought about their relationship. Two years of Sarah reaching out and him pulling away. Two years of her making herself smaller while he barely noticed.
He'd hurt her slowly. Quietly. Without malice but with devastating effect.
The system's final message appeared:
You will experience Sarah Kim's perspective during the final six months of your relationship.
You will feel her hope diminish.
You will carry her loneliness.
You will understand what it means to love someone who cannot love you back.
You will become invisible in your own relationship.
This is what emotional neglect costs.
Sleep now.
When you wake, you will be Sarah Kim.
The countdown hit zero.
Ethan closed his eyes.
The world shifted.
When he opened them, he was lying in bed next to someone.
Next to himself.
Past Ethan slept beside him, facing away, the distance between them vast despite the shared bed.
Sarah's body. Sarah's perspective.
And the deep, aching loneliness of loving someone who wasn't there.
The date showed six months before the breakup.
Six months of slow erasure.
Six months of becoming invisible to the person who was supposed to see her most.
Ethan felt Sarah's chest tighten with familiar anxiety.
Another day of wondering if she mattered.
Another day of making herself smaller.
Another day in a relationship where she was alone.
Career 5 had begun.