Before he does anything else, I add, “Look, I can’t do this. We know each other. For it to get to this… there’s something you’re not willing to tell me. And even if you did now, it’s too late. I—”I will not cry, I tell myself as my words struggle to come out. “Truth is, I need to be able to focus, and I can’t if this is what you’re doing or thinking when I’m not with you.” I force the words out. I really don’t want to, but anything other than this is lying the way he did. So, on a shaky breath, I add, “I have loved you the best way I know how, Nate. I don’t have any more to give you. This is where it ends for us.”
With silent tears running down his cheeks, he shakes his head, faint at first, then more vigorously.
“You should go,” I say.
His throat works again, and the line between his brows deepens as he takes in the room like he’s memorizing it. Then he exhales, defeated. “Please.”
I shake my head. “I have a shift in an hour.”
“So that’s it for you? Two and a half years finished with a twenty-two-minute conversation?” His voice cracks on “years.” He exhales hard through his nose, biting on thewords. When he looks at me again, the anger’s there—thin, trembling under the weight of the truth. “You don’t even want to hear me out,” he says, quieter, but his eyes are raw and red-rimmed.
“Don’t forget about the kiss. And your dates. Those ended us too.” My words land like a slap, so I take one deep breath before I add, “Time to go. You have another woman to get to.”
His lashes flutter—tiny, helpless movements that give him away. He walks to my door, then turns toward me but doesn’t look into my eyes. “We’re not over, Robyn. I fucked up, but I’ll show you, I’m not throwing us away.” He exhales. “I’m leaving now because your job is important, and I understand that. Don’t let your brain confirm that my leaving now means we’re not endgame.”
The sound of the door closing feels heavier than it should. If this is the right choice, why do I feel like rather than breaking free, the walls are closing in?
I stand there for ten minutes, watching the time go by, staring at the space he left behind until the tremor in my hands fades. Then I breathe and reach for my bag. I have work to do and no time to dwell on failures. Especially not those which don’t belong to me.
CHAPTER 10
The Stupidity
Nate
I haven’t seenRobyn since last Wednesday. When shebroke upwith me. She’s not returning my calls or texts. Even that night driving home, I had to pull over due to hyperventilating, vision blurring, hands shaking, and chest aching.
What did you expect, idiot?
Once I made it home, everything of hers was gone. She would have picked everything up while I was at work, and left her key on the coffee table.Break up. That’s the understatement of the century. Break up is what kids do. They go on a few dates, get sick of each other, and never speak again.That’sa breakup.
Ending things with Robyn is… life altering. My apartment’s become an extension of my own body, riddled with hollowness in places Robyn should still exist. Yet it is all gone. Except for the engagement ring I never gave her. That’s still hidden away. Mocking me from its velvet box. No, this isn’t a breakup, this is someone cutting off a limb and leaving me to bleed out on the floor.
Robyn’s off today. The irony. The first free Friday she’s had in forever, and I can’t even spend it with her because she’s… done with me. I couldn’t stay home, though. So I’m at the same bar from the night I fucked everything up. The place smells of spilled beer and burned popcorn, same as always. The lights are too dim, the music too loud—the kind of background that makes regret easy to hide in.
Andrzej’s easy to spot, tallest guy near the counter, and his blond hair’s gelled up, giving him an extra inch he doesn’t usually carry. I clap him on the shoulder then shrug off my sports coat and remove my tie before stuffing it into my back pocket.
When he turns, his eyes narrow as he presses his lips together. He rolls his neck, muscles bulging and veins protruding.
“What’s up?” I ask, confused and honestly too drained to deal with someone else’s disappointment.
“Robyn’s destroyed.” He crosses his arms, the movement sharp. “I told you. And you fucking broadcasted your thing with Tessa all over social media.”
“You talked to Robyn?” That’s all my brain can process—Andrzej talked to Robyn, andshe’s destroyed.
“I texted. Told you I would.”
I blink at him, pull out my phone, and thumb through our message thread. The last text is from Wednesday morning. 7:52.
Andrzej:I can’t believe my fucking eyes, Nate. You lied to me.
Andrzej:FYI, I’m telling Robyn.
My reply was a thumbs-up. I don’t even remember sending it. Wednesday was such a blur.
“You didn’t even read it, did you?” His voice dips low with disdain.
“I must have, but I wasn’t paying attention.”
