"I already knew what he asked."
"Did you?" Arden leans forward slightly. "Or did you spend five years trying to convince yourself it was reasonable?"
The question is sharp. It cuts right through me.
"He asked you to be temporary," Arden continues. "To build a life knowing it could be dismantled the moment something better—in his mind—came along. He asked you to love him while he kept looking for someone else."
"Stop."
"And you said yes because you were desperate. Because the registry had broken you down until conditional love felt like a gift."
"I said stop." My voice cracks.
Arden stops and sits back.
The silence stretches.
"I'm not trying to hurt you, Vee," he says. "I'm trying to help you see that what he did wasn't okay. That it was never okay. He had his reasons, but he let them justify what he wanted to do."
I wipe my face with the back of my hand. "It doesn't matter now."
"It does matter. Because you're still carrying it. You're still blaming yourself for not being enough when the truth is he never gave you a real chance to be."
More tears come. I can't stop them now.
Arden lets me cry. He doesn't rush me, doesn't try to fix it.
Eventually he stands and packs his bag.
"I'll see you next week," he says. "Take care of yourself, Vee."
I nod. Can't speak.
"Vee," he says before he gets to the door.
"Yeah?"
"Let them help you."
He lets himself out before I can respond.
I sit on the couch for a long time after he leaves, staring at nothing and feeling everything.
Eventually I force myself to stand. Make it to the stairs. Climb them one at a time.
My room is quiet and dim. I close the door behind me and crawl into bed fully clothed.
I pull the blankets over my head… I let myself break.
I don't know how long I lie there. Time does that thing where it stretches and compresses at the same time.
Then I hear my door open.
Footsteps cross the room and the bed dips.
Malcolm crawls in beside me and pulls me close without a word. His purr starts immediately, deep and consuming, vibrating through the mattress and into my bones. The scent of rich coffee pulling into me, tugging at the place deep inside that longs for him.
I turn into him and press my face against his chest.
