I almost laughed.
“Sorry.”
“And you’ve been distant.”
“That’s true.”
“See?”
Emily leaned back.
“I need space.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you ending the relationship?”
“Why does everything need a label?”
“Because we live together.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I need time to figure out what I want.”
“With Jake?”
The smirk appeared.
“Insecure Alex again.”
I did not react.
Emily continued.
“Jake gets me.”
“That is good to know.”
“He’s fun.”
“Okay.”
“Spontaneous.”
“Okay.”
“We can talk without everything turning into some five-year plan.”
I nodded.
“You’re always safe, Alex.”
Safe.
The quality she had loved when rent was due.
When she was unemployed.
When she needed introductions.
When life frightened her.
Now safe meant insufficient.
She continued.
“You turn down adventures.”
I almost laughed.
She noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Say it.”
“You mean Amsterdam?”
“Yes.”
“That thing.”
“You’ve had opportunities and you keep choosing the same routine.”
“I turned Amsterdam down for you.”
Emily waved one hand.
“Whatever.”
That single word did something extraordinary.
It erased years of guilt.
Whatever.
Two declined opportunities.
Whatever.
Career delay.
Whatever.
Her comfort.
Whatever.
The thing I had once believed proved devotion did not even occupy meaningful space in her memory.
“The point,” Emily said, “is I deserve someone who matches my energy.”
“Jake.”
“I’m not saying I’m running back to him.”
I said nothing.
“We’re hanging out more.”
“Okay.”
“It’s mostly platonic.”
Mostly.
I noticed the word.
Emily noticed me noticing it.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t need to.”
“So what are you asking for?”
“A break.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are we allowed to see other people?”
Her hesitation answered before her mouth did.
“I think we shouldn’t control each other.”
I nodded.
“Then we’re broken up.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It is functionally exactly what you said.”
“God, you’re so rigid.”
“Emily.”
“What?”
“You want freedom to explore Jake without losing me.”
Her face tightened.
“That is such a manipulative interpretation.”
“Then tell me what I got wrong.”
She crossed her arms.
“If you’re forcing me to choose between being controlled and being free, then yes, I choose freedom.”
“Okay.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“You’re seriously just okay?”
“I’m not going to argue with somebody to convince them to stay.”