Chapter One
Gen
“We’re really done this time.”
The words spear through my heart with vivid sharpness. Nothing comes out when I try to speak, as though five years of memories are jammed down my throat. Helpless and confused, I watch Edward shove handfuls of his things into a duffel bag. Two large suitcases are already filled with more of his stuff, waiting by the door.
I’m unsure what triggered this, but it’s miles from how I expected our Saturday afternoon to unfold. Eddie has been in a frenzy for the past hour, scavenging through the apartment to gather his most prized belongings.
“Eddie, please. Let’s talk about this.”
“We already talked about it, Gen. A dozen times. I stayed because I hoped things would change, but they never do. Not with you.”
“I’m sorry! You know work has been hectic lately, and—”
“It’s been hectic since we started dating! You keep making excuses and promising you’ll take a step back and have more time for me, but you never do.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“And yet it is. All you need to do is to prioritize me rather than whatever big promotion comes next, for once.”
“We made a deal, Edward. You agreed we’d wait until I became head of my department.”
“I didn’t think it would take that long! Everyone we know is getting married and having children. But for us… It’ll be what? Another decade before we get there?”
“We can get married if you want,” I offer. “God knows our parents have been pushing us to.”
“Will you make time for family life if we do?”
I press my lips together, seeing no point in lying. Marriage wouldn’t change anything, at least on my side. I worked too long and too hard to let anything get in the way of my objective.
“See? This is why I can’t do it any longer. You refuse to compromise, and that is not how a relationship works, Genevieve.”
“And you? Are you compromising? You’ve been home even less than I have this week.”
Before I can gloat over my excellent point, he says, “I’ve been finding excuses not to be home for months and you didn’t even notice. What’s the point of being here? We barely speak, ignore one another, don’t have sex…”
The last one stings, but I kind of deserve it. It’s been a while since I initiated anything intimate between us, and the last few times he did, I rebuked him on account of being too tired or having work to deal with.
“I’m sorry,” I say for the umpteenth time. “Maybe we can fix it. I promise I’ll do better. We can set a clear schedule where I make time for you. And establish a weekly slot for sex. We can—”
“Do you hear yourself, Gen? A weekly slot? Is it a chore for you? Like some duty you’d go through to keep me happy?”
“No, it’s not! I enjoy sex with you.”
“Well, I don’t,” he states, his bitter tone sending icy shivers up my spine.
“What do you mean?”
“Sex with you is boring. You treat it with efficiency like everything else, and it’s so dull.”
Now, I’m confused. First, I didn’t make enough time for him and sex, and now I’m bad at it? Somehow, that hurts me more than everything else he’s said so far. Especially since I have to fake my climax most of the time when healwaysfinishes.
I’m still processing his words when he returns to his drawers to pack more things. When he turns around this time, tears are veiling his eyes. That sends a twinge of pain to my heart.
It’s really over, isn’t it? The man I expected to spend the rest of my life with is leaving, and I can’t stop him. Would I want to, anyway? Knowing what I do now, can I still go through with my life plan?
“I wish we could have made it work, Genevieve,” he says, pulling on the zipper of his bag to close it. It’s too full now, so I mindlessly walk up to him to help.
