He walked toward me.
“Claire, come on.”
Those three words nearly broke me.
Because I knew them.
Claire, come on.
I had heard them when I asked about marriage.
When I questioned money.
When I wanted vacations he couldn’t afford.
When I wanted help around the apartment.
When I said I was tired.
Claire, come on.
They always meant the same thing.
Don’t make me uncomfortable.
This time, I didn’t move.
He lowered his voice.
“We’re not throwing away ten years over one bad night.”
“I’m not throwing them away.”
“Then stop this.”
“I’m ending what those ten years taught me.”
He looked toward Natalie.
“Can we talk privately?”
“No.”
His eyebrows rose.
“No?”
“You had ten years of private conversations with me. I’m not going to let you talk me out of this one.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe.”
I handed him another folder.
“This contains every account I’m removing myself from. Anything legally yours stays yours. I didn’t touch your equipment. I didn’t damage anything. You have thirty-five days before the lease ends.”
He stared down at the folder.
“What am I supposed to do?”
For some reason, that question hurt more than anything else.
Because I realized I had answered it for him for years.
Where will the rent come from?
Claire will figure it out.
Who will buy groceries?
Claire.
Who will remember the bill?
Claire.
Who will clean up?
Claire.
Who will make everything okay?
Claire.
But there was finally a new answer.
“I don’t know.”
He looked at me like I had slapped him.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I mean I don’t know.”
“You’re seriously going to leave me hanging?”
“No, Marcus.”
My voice stayed quiet.
“I’m going to stop holding you up.”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then his expression changed.
The anger disappeared.
For the first time, he looked frightened.
“Claire.”
I hated how quickly my heart reacted to my name in his voice.
“We can fix this.”
I shook my head.
“I’ll do more around here.”
“This isn’t about dishes.”
“I’ll start paying half.”
“You’ve promised that before.”
“This contract changes everything.”
“No. That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“Your next opportunity was always supposed to change everything.”
He stared at me.
I continued.
“First it was the documentary.”
