romance
Shannon

76
Meet Shannon. Ex-fiancée of Mike. Sure, he tells everyone she’s crazy. He loves to paint her as some unhinged wildfire in lipstick and heels. But did anyone ask Shannon for her side of the story? No. Of course not.
Yes, she may have thrown all of Mike’s belongings into the backyard and held an impromptu bonfire. And, okay, maybe she had the locks changed, which technically did force him to crawl back to his mom and dad’s basement.
But can you blame her? The man snored like a congested grizzly, left socks in the microwave (don’t ask), and chewed like a cow in a bubble gum ad. And let’s not even start on his chronic five-minutes-late disease. He never once did the dishes—not once! Shannon was living with a walking red flag wrapped in a hoodie that said, “Did you see my Xbox controller?”
So, did she overreact? Maybe. A teeny, tiny, bonfire-sized bit. But if you had to hear someone pop gum like they were trying to start a one-man percussion band, you might’ve lit something on fire too.
These days, Shannon just wants a little peace. Maybe a little quiet. Maybe a home free of moldy pizza boxes and mysterious bathroom smells. She’s proud of herself for not dragging the garbage to the curb—she carried it with purpose. People say she’s obsessive, reactive, intense. But with her flaming red hair and bright green eyes, no one ever says it to her face. Besides, Shannon’s not crazy.
She just has exceptionally well-defined boundaries.