“What do you mean?”
“I was with him for three years. We talked about it all—the wedding, the kids, the house, the dogs, the fun stuff. Then, three months after he proposed, I called it off. Wreckedmy relationship with his family and my own. Strained the relationships between me and our friends. Everything went to hell. So here I am. I left. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Jesse looks down at his hands, taking a hard swallow before meeting my eyes. “What about that makes you think I’d judge you?”
“Because it screams flight risk.” I gesture, my hands hitting my sides.
“So? You still should’ve just told me.”
“I know. It’s just … this is what I was afraid of. You’re mad at me now. See?” I point out his disapproval.
“I’m not mad that you were engaged, Ella. I’m mad you waited this long to tell me.”
“But, now you know,” I say with hope.
He stares at me for a moment, then looks away, shaking his head. “Why do you do this, baby? Why?”
“This? What’sthis?”
His tone sharpens. “You and these secrets, this is the third one.”
“Third?!” I shoot back, frustration making my chest rise.
“Yeah, it took you days to tell me the thing with Addison, which you then said you weren’t even going to tell me, and don’t act like you forgot about the college thing too.”
I blink, stunned. My heart thuds in my chest, and I feel the air shift between us.
“Jesse …” My voice drops to a whisper, pleading. “We talked about that. I apologized, you apologized … I thought we moved on from that.”
“Yeah, and yet nothing’s changed. How am I supposed to build trust with you if this is your MO?!” He shakes his head and walks around the living room.
“Huh, wow.” I get my things and make my way toward the door. Unable to handle his accusations, my body is shaking with anger.
“I’m serious, Ella. Answer me that,” he says, following me.
“No,” I argue.
“This solves nothing. You can’t just walk away from your problems.” His voice is tight; I can practically hear him biting his tongue, but I don’t care.
“It’s better than staying here and dwelling on the past!”
“So you’re just gonna walk away again?” he asks, and my blood boils more.
“I guess so! Itismy MO right?!” I open the door. “Don’t choke on the lasagna,” I snap and shut the door behind me. I don’t slam it—I’m not that immature—but I am pretty pissed off.
As I drive home, the anger fades and tears blur my vision. It feels like déjà vu, a sickening reminder of how it felt when we broke up years ago. My stomach twists at the thought. I wish I was one for hard conversations, but I’m just not. And Jesse knows that. If there’s anything that I wish would’ve changed about me, it would be that. Like I said, it’s not like I wasn’t going to tell him, I just hadn’t felt like there was a reason to yet. I was waiting for a better time.
If we can’t work through this, if he can’t trust me again, I don’t know what I’ll do. But I do know one thing, I’m not leaving this time. I’m here to stay. I’m not ready to say I love him yet, but I’m getting there. Slowly. Carefully. I’m just scared to jump back in too fast and lose myself again.
Eight months ago
“Are you being serious right now?” my mom asks, armscrossed, eyes narrowed in disbelief. My dad stands behind her, hands on his hips, his face a mix of curiosity and judgment.
“Yeah.” I nod, trying to sound firm, but my voice wavers. I wait for them to say something, anything to reassure me that I did the right thing. I know I did. But right now, I just need someone to remind me before the urge to throw up wins.
“Why would you do that?” Mom presses, her voice sharp. “Did he do something?”
“No, it’s just … he’s not the one.” I shake my head. I wish he did do something—it would give me a better reason—but he didn’t. Tim’s a good guy, he’s just not mine.
