I stared at the text. We’d barely spoken since the night I stayed at his place. We’d done the minimum required in public the week after leading up to the Thanksgiving break. The only time I’d heard from him in the last five days had been a simple text wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving.
Me:Yep. You?
I wasn’t planning on seeing him until tomorrow morning when we had our kinesiology class together, where I planned to ask him if he had time to get together that night to talk. We needed this fake relationship to end. The fact that we were hardly talking and that I was crushing on him were big indicators that we’d taken this whole thing too far.
Slate:Just got back. You want to hang out?
Did I want to hang out? That was a loaded question. Did I want to see him? Of course, and always. Did I want the hangout to turn into a make out? Heck, yes. Did I know that if I saw him today that I’d need to have the break-up conversation instead of waiting for tomorrow? Unfortunately, yes, since my previous answers had been horribly wrong for someone who was trying to keep someone in the friend zone.
Me:Sure.
It was now or never. By the end of the night, I would no longer be dating Slate. No more holding hands, no more enveloping hugs, no more kissing him whenever I wanted in public. We’d go back to being regular old friends.
Slate:Come on over.
I checked my reflection in the mirror quickly before heading out, making sure I didn’t have crazy hair from lying in my bed reading.
Knocking on his door, I took a big breath, hoping to calm my nerves. Why I was nervous to fake-break up with my fake boyfriend was beyond me. It’s not like this hadn’t always been a part of the plan. We’d said two months, and it had now been two months, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that it was time to end things.
The door opened to reveal Slate in a black t-shirt that hugged his muscles just right, not too tight, not too baggy. His dark hair was styled, a slight scruff on his face, and those blue eyes looked at me like they were happy to see me. I had to work hard to not let out a sigh. I think I may have forgotten how good looking he was because my mind definitely hadn’t pictured him this good.
He smiled, moving out of the doorway to let me in. “Hey, come on in.”
I walked through the door and noticed it was just the two of us.
“Are Wilder and Olivia here?” I asked.
“No, their flight doesn’t get in for another hour.”
Wilder had gone home with Olivia for Thanksgiving this year, and I hadn’t realized they wouldn’t be back yet. Which was probably for the best. If I was going to break things off with Slate, I didn’t particularly want an audience.
I sat down on the couch, suddenly feeling nervous.
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked.
“Um, water would be great. Thank you.”
Could he tell I was nervous? I didn’t normally get nervous around him, at least I hadn’t in a while. I’d grown to feel comfortable in his presence in a way that I never had with anyone else.
I’d never fake-broken up with someone before, so I was feeling a little on edge.
He returned from the kitchen, handing me a bottle of water before settling on the other couch adjacent to the love seat where I sat.
He leaned back and unscrewed the lid on his water bottle. “So, how was your break?”
“It was really good. Spent time with family, ate good food, played some games, read a few books. Nothing too exciting, but nice all the same.” I tried to get more relaxed on the couch so I wasn’t sitting so rigidly. “What about you?”
He let out a breath of air. “Uh, it was just okay.”
“Why was it just okay?”
He took a drink from his water before answering, looking at the wall. “My dad and I ate TV dinners and watched old reruns of his favorite shows. All the days just blurred together.”
He gave off the impression that his long weekend hadn’t bothered him, but I knew him better than that. Being home had been hard for him. A touch of sadness went through me that this was the first I was hearing about his time at home and that he hadn’t reached out to me about it at all while he’d been gone.
“I’m sure that wasn’t the Thanksgiving break you wanted,” I said gently.
He shrugged. “It’s like that every time I go home.”
