The old version of me would have immediately rushed over.
Comforted her.
Accepted every implication before confirmation.
Instead, I said:
“Take a proper test. See a doctor. If there is a pregnancy and there is a possibility I’m the father, I will take responsibility through the appropriate process.”
Tara hung up.
The next afternoon:
False alarm.
Got my period.
I stared at the screen.
Then replied only:
Okay.
I never proved whether she genuinely believed she was pregnant or simply wanted a reaction.
Eventually, I decided it did not matter.
The point was that I had responded responsibly without surrendering my boundaries.
The phone-plan issue erupted shortly afterward.
The thirty-day transfer deadline arrived.
Her number was released so she could establish service under her own account.
Nothing was disconnected without notice.
Still, Tara’s mother called.
I recognized the number.
“Alex?”
“Hi, Mrs. Collins.”
“What is this about Tara’s phone?”
“I’m not sure what she told you.”
“You canceled it.”
“No. I removed her line from my account after giving her notice. She can keep the same number with her own plan.”
“She can’t afford the rate they’re quoting her.”
I paused.
“I’m sorry.”
“She’s working through a lot.”
“I know.”
“After two years, you can’t help her for a few months?”
I looked around my apartment.
The apartment Tara had chosen to leave.
“With respect, we’re not together.”
“That doesn’t mean you stop caring.”
“It means I stop paying recurring personal bills as though we are.”
Her mother sighed.
“You’re being very transactional.”
“Phone contracts are fairly transactional.”
She did not appreciate that.
“She made a mistake.”
“Maybe.”
“She realizes it now.”
“I hope she learns from it.”
“So that’s it?”
“I’m not sure what else you want me to say.”
“She needs people.”
“She has family.”
“She wanted you.”
I took a breath.
“She ended our relationship.”
Her mother became quiet.
I continued.
“I genuinely want Tara to be okay. But I cannot be her boyfriend until she finds someone else, then her friend when convenient, then her boyfriend again when she regrets it.”
Mrs. Collins did not have much response to that.
The beach-town argument came next.
Marissa and I planned a weekend away.
Nothing extravagant.
A coastal town about two hours away.
It happened to be the same town Tara and I had visited for our anniversary the year before.
I did not choose it for symbolism.
Marissa found a good hotel deal.
Tara somehow heard.
Probably through mutual friends.
The text arrived like an essay.
How could you take her THERE?
Of all places.
That was ours.
You’re deliberately rewriting our memories.
You want to erase me.
I read the whole thing.
Then replied:
It’s a public beach town, Tara.
Her answer:
You know what you’re doing.
Me:
Yes. Taking my girlfriend away for the weekend.
Three dots appeared.
Then stopped.
Then appeared again.
Girlfriend?
I realized that was apparently new information.
Yes.