Page 124 of Spring Break Fling

“Not everyone is like you. I happen to value feedback.”

“Even when it comes from people who couldn’t give a shit about you? That would happily toss you to the wolves if they thought there was a better option? I don’t get that.”

My hands were shaking now, anger and something else—something that felt like recognition—bubbling up inside me. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I whispered. “To constantly feel like you have to prove yourself.”

Nikko’s expression softened. “I know exactly what that feels like,” he said quietly. “But proving yourself to people who don’t care about you? That’s not the answer.”

I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but something in his words rang true. Deep down, I knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“I can’t just walk away from this,” I said, my voice breaking. “It’s my chance.”

“Your chance at what?” he challenged. “Being miserable? Letting Clarke control you?”

Anguish gripped me. “What do you want me to do?”

He stepped closer, his hands gentle as he cupped my face. “I want you to stand up for yourself.”

It felt like it should be such an easy choice. I should just listen to him. But there was part of me that was leery of him now. I didn’t trust him to stick by me through thick and thin. Not anymore.

“I am standing up for myself,” I said. “You’re the one that’s running away from me.”

He flinched, and for a moment, I saw something vulnerable flash in his eyes. “Running away? I’m the one who followed you to Boise. I’m the one who was ready to build a life with you.”

“Build a life where?” I shot back. “In Miami? Doing what? Tattooing in some grungy shop?”

“At least I know who I am,” he said quietly. “At least I’m not trying to be something I’m not.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

The silence between us stretched out, heavy and suffocating. I knew what he wanted me to say. I could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his hands clenched at his sides. If I told him he was right, he’d stay. We’d figure things out. Miami, New York—it wouldn’t matter because we’d be together.

But I couldn’t.

“I can’t,” I said finally, the words barely above a whisper.

He nodded and took a step back. A cold feeling washed over me as he pulled away physically and emotionally. It was a separation of our souls. It was like tearing away two sides of a Velcro patch. It hurt. My body recoiled from the pain.

“Then this is over,” he said quietly.

I flinched. “But I love you,” I said, my voice breaking.

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, his gaze soft but resolute. “I love you too, Hannah. That’s why I’m walking away.”

With that, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stood there for a long time, staring at the door, waiting for him to come back, to say he’d changed his mind. But he didn’t.

When the reality of it finally hit me, I sank to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest as the tears came. They came fast and hard, shaking my whole body.

I thought I’d won something today. Instead, I’d lost everything. The job in New York no longer felt like the prize I had been reaching for.

It felt like a chain wrapped around my neck, pulling me deeper into waters I no longer wanted to navigate. The dream job wasn’t my dream anymore; it was a reminder of the price I had paid. I sacrificed love for this job.

The emptiness of the apartment enveloped me. Everywhere I looked, I noticed his absence. He’d only been here a couple weeks, but he had slotted into my life like he had been there the whole time. It was so easy living with him.

We had spent the last two weeks talking about Miami and what we were going to do. His house was twice the size of my apartment. We decided I would sell or donate most of my stuff. To take it cross country would be too expensive. My stuff wasn’t worth a fraction of the price of the move.

As I sat there, I realized I didn’t have time to mourn the loss. I had to pack. I had to put in my notice to the landlord and everything else.