“I can’t do this,” I whispered into the darkness. But no one answered.
***
The following morning, Chris came into the bedroom with a cup of coffee. He set it on the nightstand and sat down beside me. His face looked tired and worn, as though he hadn’t slept much, either.
“Kylie,” he said gently. “We need to talk tonight.”
A sick feeling rose up from my gut and lodged in my chest.
This was it. This was him ending things.
I’d been waiting for it, hadn’t I? Waiting for him to realize that Stella was right.
That I couldn’t give him what he wanted. That I was too much work and not enough reward.
“We need to talk tonight.”
I nodded because I didn’t trust my voice.
“Okay.”
But somewhere beneath the panic, a tiny voice whispered that Chris wasn’t the kind of man who broke promises. The real problem had always been Stella.
He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. I couldn’t bear the kindness right before the goodbye.
“Kylie,” he said again.
“I said okay, Chris. Just go to work.”
A tiny voice whispered that Chris wasn’t the kind of man who broke promises.
He hesitated, then stood up. “I love you. You know that, right?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. How could I?
He kissed my forehead and left for work.
I sat there staring at the coffee until it got cold. I spent the whole day trying to prepare myself. I showered for the first time in days. I put on real clothes instead of pajamas. I even brushed my hair and put on a little makeup.
I sat there staring at the coffee until it got cold.
I thought maybe if I looked put together, it would be easier for him. Like he wouldn’t feel as guilty leaving someone who looked like they had it together.
I practiced smiling in the mirror, but it looked wrong and hollow.
“You can do this,” I told my reflection. “You can survive this.”
But I wasn’t sure I believed it.
I thought maybe if I looked put together, it would be easier for him.
When Chris got home that evening, he asked me to come into the dining room.
I walked in and stopped.
The table was set with candles and my favorite pasta dish. The lights were dimmed. It looked almost romantic, except Stella was sitting there too, her arms crossed and her mouth pressed into a tight line.
My heart pounded.
It looked almost romantic, except Stella was sitting there too.
That was worse than I thought.
He’d brought his mother to witness the breakup. To make sure I understood it was really over.
“Please, sit down.”
I did. My pulse spiked as if I’d stepped into traffic without looking.
I couldn’t look at Stella.
He’d brought his mother to witness the breakup.
Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. It was wrapped in silver paper with a white ribbon.
“Open it, Kylie. Please. It’ll change everything.”
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