“Where will you stay?”
“I’ll be with Frank until I can find a place.”
“What should I do with the rest of your stuff?”
“I’ll let you know when I have space to store it. Are you okay if I keep the keys in case I need to pick up some things and you’re gone?”
“Yes, sure. It’s still your home,” I say. I own this place, but he’s lived here for four years.
“Do you think you’ll cry for me?” he asks, a lone tear rolling down his neatly shaven cheek.
My eyes drop to the first button of his shirt as I consider his question. He knows that I never cry. The last time I did was after losing my twin. Since those days, not a tear was shed for anyone.
When I can’t find the answer within me, I truthfully reply, “I don’t know.”
He looks disappointed as he says, “I see…”
We grew used to one another, complacent in our arrangement, and our relationship hasn’t felt like one in ages. It was practical and easy, something to hold on to rather than face the unknown with others. Have I slowly been falling out of love with him? When did this become our routine rather than the loving relationship it used to be?
“When will you tell your parents?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. Mom knows things have been complicated lately, so she won’t be surprised.”
While I dislike that he’s been sharing our issues with his nosy mother, I suppose it’s good to have her prepared for the shock. My father won’t be an issue since he doesn’t care much about my romantic life. But Mother will endlessly nag me about it.
As pathetic as it is, I say, “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
Standing in the middle of the bedroom, I watch as he hauls his bag over his shoulder. We hesitate on what to do next, and I settle on a brief and tight hug. Despite all that time with him, his body feels alien against mine, reminding me that things fell apart long ago.
“Take care of yourself, Gen,” he says with a small, forced smile once we let go.
“See you around, Eddie,” I tell him, returning a grin I’m not feeling.
I use his reluctance to leave to take one last look at him. His caramel eyes are weary, and his dirty blond hair is slightly askew, which is unusual. I grew accustomed to his face, so dashing when we first met. Then, I speechlessly stare as he makes his way out of our bedroom—mybedroom. Pain, betrayal, heartache… I wait for all those to wreck me, to crush my heart into a pulp in my chest. But they don’t come, and that troubles me. Yes, I feel abandoned and lost, but the agony it should unleash on me is a mere squeeze.
The front door opens and closes, and I stay glued right where I stand. I can’t do this whole thing again. I’m almost twenty-seven, which is too old to do it all over with another man.
It takes my phone dinging on the bed to rip me out of my thoughts. It’s Hana, replying to a text I sent her earlier—when Eddie was packing his things and I panicked.
Hananana
WTH?? What’s happening now? Is he still packing?
With a sigh, I type a reply.
Me
He just left. I think it’s really over this time.
Hananana
Holy fuck! What happened?!
Me
I don’t even know.
