This is Part 4. If you haven't read the previous parts: ants, burnt noodles, partied the night before our biggest shoot, ghosted a confirmed meeting, claimed she needed to recharge from a funeral. Start from Part 1. This is the ending.
A few days after I ended the contract, my father called me. He sounded puzzled.
"Hey, a designer you used to work with came by. Said she wanted to discuss something. I told her I wasn't interested. I know how she messed up your project."
Good job, Dad.
He added: "I was about to go downstairs to tell her off but I didn't want to see her."
She had turned up at my parents' house to argue the point. After everything. After the ants, the party, the funeral, the three messages about her good work attitude. She showed up at my father's door.
"I would have ended her contract in three days. Why is she still here?"
What my father remembered
My dad remembered her well. In Part 2, she stayed at my flat for a few weeks during the shoot preparation. He had visited once and called me afterwards, genuinely shocked.
A dirty blanket left in the bathroom with a note: "I don't have time to wash this. Can you do it?" The guest room was a complete mess. Rubbish everywhere. Bedding left dirty. Bathroom the same. Like we had been hosting a five year old for two weeks, not a 27-year-old professional. Laptop open but the whole day spent chatting with her boyfriend and doing makeup.
He had politely asked if she wanted anything from the coffee shop. Her reply: "Yeah, I want the new vanilla strawberry frappe with cream and drizzle." No, thank you. No manners. Not a flicker of awareness that someone was doing her a favour.
He called me at the time and said: "I would have ended her contract in three days. Why is she still here?"
And now she thought he would listen to her side of the story. Until the very end, the diva never changed. Honestly it was almost funny. Almost.
Looking back
I should have ended it the first time she blamed ants. The first time she overslept. The first time she partied the night before a shoot I had spent a month preparing. I knew each time. And I kept going anyway.
I gave chance after chance because she was a friend and because I kept convincing myself it would get better. That's the trap. Kindness without a clear boundary isn't actually kindness. It's just avoidance. And avoidance always costs more in the end than the conversation you were trying to skip.
People tell you who they are through what they do, not what they promise. She told me in the first two weeks. I chose not to listen. That's on me.
If you're currently tolerating someone who drains you because you're hoping it will improve or because ending it feels too complicated: it won't improve. And the complicated part gets worse the longer you wait. The moment you know, cut it. You'll replace them faster than you think.
