"Or?"
"Or he's doing what they all do." My voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Leaving. Because I'm not enough to?—."
Beth's expression shifted from sympathetic to something harder. "Don't you dare finish that thought."
"It's true?—"
"It's Drew's garbage, Charlotte. And you've been carrying it around like it belongs to you." She leaned forward, coffee cup forgotten. "You are enough. That man broke your heart because he was selfish and weak, not because of anything lacking in you."
Tears pricked at my eyes. I blinked them back furiously.
"Okay," Beth continued, her voice gentler now. "Let's look at this logically. You're a nurse. What did you actually observe at that coffee date?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, stop catastrophizing for two seconds and use your professional brain. What did you see?"
I thought back. The easy conversation. The weight beneath it. The moment my hand covered his trembling fingers.
"His hand shook," I said slowly. "A fine tremor. He pulled away like he was embarrassed."
"What else?"
"He moves carefully. Rigid posture. Like he's thinking about every step." The clinical observations came easier than the emotional ones. "And then his phone rang. He took the call outside. When he came back, he was completely different. Closed off. Scared."
"Scared," Beth repeated. "Not indifferent. Scared."
"He said it was work, but it was a lie. I could tell."
"So let me get this straight." Beth set her mug down with a click. "You saw a man with a visible tremor, rigid movements, and a phone call that terrified him. He's on indefinite leave from his fancy law job, back in his hometown settling his parents' estate, vague about the future." She raised an eyebrow. "Does that sound like a man who's simply not interested in you?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
"Charlie." Beth's voice was firm but kind. "What if this isn't about you at all?"
The question hit like cold water.
"What if he's sick?" she continued. "What if he's scared?"
"That's—" I stopped. "He wouldn't?—"
"He absolutely would. He's the kind of man who thinks self-sacrifice is romantic instead of annoying." Beth shook her head. "Drew left because it was easier for him. Maybe Miles is pushing you away because he thinks it's harder for you if he stays. Those are two completely different men, Charlotte."
Her words rearranged something within me. The closed-off look after the phone call. The deliberate step back in the parking lot. The way he'd saidI'll call you,like it was a promise he was already breaking.
"I've been an idiot," I breathed.
"A little bit," Beth agreed. "But a relatable one." She pointed at me. "Now. Why haven't you called him?"
"I didn't want to seem needy. Desperate."
"Checking on someone you care about isn't desperate. It's human." She leaned forward. "He makes you happy, I saw it on your face at the reunion. You make him happy. Life is not that complicated, Charlie. When we find people who make us feel alive, we hold onto them. We fight for them."
"What if he doesn't want me to fight?"
"Then at least you'll know. And you'll have chosen action over paralysis." Her expression softened. "Stop waiting to be chosen. Stop being a passive participant in your own story. Go check on him. Maybe he needs help and doesn't know how to ask."
I stared at her, something clicking into place. The anxiety was still there, but it had been joined by something else, something that felt like resolve.
