“If I hadn’t slept with, you none of this would have happened. Was this a reward or something?”
I stared at her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. The woman I’d held in my arms, the one who’dtraced my tattoos with her fingertips and made me explain each one to her, the one who’d made me believe in forever. She was reducing everything we’d shared to something despicable.
She shook her head, pulling free from me with a sharp jerk that left my hands grasping empty air.
“You know what, Sebastian? It doesn’t matter. The bottom line is that I’ll never be able to trust you again. I realize how easily you can lie to me, and I’d never have a clue.” She took a step back, then another. “I don’t want people like that in my life.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair, willing myself to make her see reason. “Jesse, don’t you think you’re overreacting? It was one goddamn small gesture.”
She shook her head. “I’m overreacting? Is that what you think? You’re unbelievable, Sebastian.” She gave a shrug so casual it was obscene under the circumstances. “Hey, at least your sister should be happy we’re done. She never liked me.”
Panic clawed at my chest as I watched her retreating. “That’s it? You’re walking away because I made one mistake?”
My voice cracked on the word ‘mistake.’ She kept backing away from me.
I followed her like a man walking off a cliff. “I’m sorry, Jesse. I was wrong. But my intentions were good. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
She gazed past me, her eyes focusing on some distant point over my shoulder. In the amber streetlight, I could see tears shining in her eyes.
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions. My dad loved that saying.” Her voice was hollow, empty. “Have a nice life, Sebastian.”
She turned to walk away, and something inside me snapped.
“This is just an excuse, Jesse!” The words ripped from my throat, raw and desperate. “You’re running because you’rescared. We are so fucking good together that you’re terrified about what could happen next.”
She didn’t turn around, but I saw her shoulders tense.
I went on, the words torn straight from my heart. “You accused me of having commitment issues, but you’re the one who’s always run away. That’s what you’re doing right now. You’re running away because you’re scared!”
Her silhouette grew smaller with each step. I stood there, defeated, watching the best thing in my life disappear into the shadows between streetlights. My hands hung useless at my sides, my throat burned from shouting, and my chest felt as though someone had reached inside and ripped out everything that mattered.
I should go after her. Every instinct screamed at me to follow, to keep fighting. But my feet felt welded to the asphalt. Pride—stupid, destructive pride—kept me rooted in place. And the certainty that nothing I said could change anything now.
The sound of her heels on concrete faded until all I could hear was the distant hum of traffic and the ringing in my ears. I stood there for I don’t know how long, staring at the empty street where she’d been, replaying every word, every gesture, every moment where I could have done something different. Maybe if I explained better, begged harder… Maybe she wouldn’t have walked away.
I shook my head, a merciless grin splitting my face. I’d begged Lara not to leave me, but she’d done it anyway. And she’d been right. Maybe this was the same. Maybe Jesse and I were just not meant to be.
The bus ride home passed in a blur of red lights and pain. My apartment felt like a tomb when I walked in—too quiet, too empty. I paced the living room like a caged animal, running my hands through my hair until it stood in wild peaks. The silence pressed against my eardrums.
I kept reaching for my phone, then setting it down again. What could I possibly say? ‘Sorry I broke your trust? Sorry I made this decision for you? Sorry I screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?’
Damn it! I still didn’t think I’d done anything that wrong. Maybe that was the problem? Maybe I couldn’t see straight and I was wrong thinking she’d overreacted?
The minutes crawled by. I tried watching TV, tried reading, tried anything to stop the endless loop of our fight playing in my head. But Jesse’s face kept appearing—the way she’d looked at me as though I was a stranger. As though I’d hurt her unspeakably.
I found myself standing in front of the aquarium, staring at my ladies as they drifted through the water, oblivious to my misery. Venus came up to the glass the way she always did, her golden scales catching the dim light. I’d told Jesse they were good company because they didn’t talk back. What a stupid thing to say. What I’d really meant was that they were safe. They didn’t ask for anything I couldn’t give. They didn’t expect me to be better than I was.
Jesse had expected more from me. She’d trusted me to respect what she needed. And I’d failed her spectacularly.
“I fucked up,” I told Venus. She bumped the glass with her nose, then swam away.
Even the fish knew when to keep their distance.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. For one wild second, I thought it was Jesse. But the name on the screen was Mia.
Hey stranger. It’s been a while. You up?
I stared at the message, thumb hovering over the screen while I tried to remember who Mia was. Eventually, I recalled a leggy brunette with long hair. She was a yoga instructor and lived in Tribeca. We’d hooked up for a few weeks last spring—the kind of casual, uncomplicated arrangement I used to prefer.She’d understood the rules. No expectations, no strings, just good company and great sex.
