“Then don’t use love as your answer,” I said quietly.
He sat back down on the edge of the bed, defeated.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
For once…
That was honest.
I nodded slowly.
“Then don’t say anything.”
He looked up.
“Show me.”
He frowned slightly.
“How?”
I took a breath.
Not because I didn’t know—
But because I knew exactly how much it would cost him.
“You cut contact,” I said. “Completely.”
He nodded quickly.
“Done.”
“You tell her it’s over. Clearly. No ‘maybe,’ no ‘we’ll see,’ no ‘this is complicated.’”
“Okay.”
“And you don’t hide it from me,” I added.
He hesitated for half a second.
Then nodded again.
“Okay.”
I stepped closer.
“Then,” I continued, “you stay.”
His brows pulled together.
“I am staying.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
I met his eyes.
“You show up.”
That landed differently.
“No more disappearing into ‘meetings.’ No more shutting me out. No more making me feel like I’m second to something—or someone—I can’t even see.”
He swallowed.
“I can do that.”
I held his gaze a moment longer.
Then asked the question that mattered most:
“Do you want to?”
He didn’t answer right away.
And that told me everything.
Finally, he nodded.
“Yes.”
Not rushed.
Not defensive.
Just… yes.
I exhaled slowly.
“Then we’ll see.”
Not forgiveness.
Not resolution.
Just… a possibility.
As I turned to leave the room, he spoke again.
“Why didn’t you just leave?” he asked.
I paused.
Thought about it.
Then answered honestly:
“Because I wanted to see if you would notice before I had to.”
Silence followed me out of the room.
And for the first time in a long time…
He did.
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