“So, you’re really moving out?” I ask, and my voice immediately cracks. I have so many questions that have been left unanswered this past week, and so many wonderings about what my future looks like now.
“I don’t know,” Luca says, but his actions say otherwise. He pulls his suitcase out of the storage closet and I blink fast when I spot his luggage tag, because it’s the other half of a matching set with mine. We have been on so many trips together, our last being Hawaii in the spring.
Maui was so beautiful. We went on gorgeous hikes, snorkeled in La Perouse Bay, ate expensive seafood, and spent all night every night wrapped up in each other’s arms. On our last morning before our flight back to California, we window-shopped in a luxurious jeweler, admiring the engagement rings. Luca was all smiles and I was all winks as I reminded him once again that when (alwayswhen,neverif) he proposed, it better be with a teardrop diamond ring.
Because that was the plan. Marriage. Why else would we be dating if we didn’t plan for it to be forever? We discussed it a lot in the past two years. Luca promised he would propose after college, and then we would enjoy our gap year in romantic bliss, traveling Southeast Asia and on to Australia. We’d have the perfect wedding on a rustic ranch in Southern California the following year, surrounded by our family and friends who have watched us grow together since we were teenagers, and then we would honeymoon in the Bahamas. We always agreed on two kids, but not until we bought our forever home in the Midwest. We would work for a few years here in San Francisco first. Luca in tech, me in teaching.
Graduation was in May, over a month ago. Instead of the engagement I was promised, I got my heart broken instead. It’s cruel, now that I think about it. I was sold a dream that went up in flames.
As Luca heads for our bedroom with his suitcase, I follow close on his heels, pathetically desperate for a sense of understanding.
“Don’t you think we should talk about this?”
He doesn’t look at me as he slides open the mirrored closet doors. He grabbed a handful of clothes when he left, but now he’s grabbing the rest with a sense of urgency. My heartbeat quickens when I realize he’s takingeverything.“Talk about what?”
“About the apartment. The channel. We have your parents’ anniversary party next weekend,” I say, sitting down on the edge of our bed and watching him with a hollowness in my chest as he fills the suitcase beside me. “You’ll need to tell them I won’t be coming.”
“I assume they already know you won’t be coming.” Luca leans his head against the wall, taking a deep breath. “For the channel, just throw together some old footage we never used or something. No one will know it’s not recent. And you can keep the apartment for now.”
“You want to lie to everyone?”
“What else are we supposed to do?” he says, his frustration pulsing between each word. He slides the closet door shut and crosses to his bedside drawer. His departure didn’t feel permanent until now. “Our channel is done if we announce we aren’t together anymore. Just keep the money flowing for now, okay?”
I don’t agree, but I also don’tdisagree. Our YouTube channel has been our source of income for years, saving us from having to work retail part-time all through college like the rest of our friends. It has allowed us to rent this incredible apartment, take trips of a lifetime, and save for the future we were supposed to have. Putting an end to our income stream feels like financial suicide, but it also feels so wrong to lie to our viewers and brand partners.
“Luca .?.?. I don’t want you to leave,” I croak. “Can you please think about this some more? You’re just having cold feet because we both know what our next step is, and it’s a big one, I know, but we can work through it.Please.”
“That guy,” Luca says, slamming the bedside drawer shut. He fastens his eyes on me. “Did you bring him home from the club? Did he stay here last night?”
“No,” I say, shrinking under the tone of his voice. We were always so happy, it was rare for Luca to be so abrupt. “You think he went to the club in sweatpants?”
“I don’t know, Gracie. It just seems really fucking suspicious that you went out last night, and then I find you the next morning with a stranger in ourapartment,” he snaps. He zips his suitcase shut and drags it off the bed, standing it upright. “Well?”
I stare silently, shellshocked at just how wrong he is. “You’rethe one who wants to sleep with other people, not me.”
“That’s not what I said,” Luca says with a sigh.
“You said you wanted to see what else was out there, and we both know that means you want to seewhoelse is out there.” I rise from the bed to stand in front of him, arms folded. I dare him to deny that seeing other people is what he wants. Idarehim.
His blue-gray eyes set on mine, and I think of how I could paint every inch of him from memory with my eyes closed. Luca Hartmann is all I’ve ever known.
Those cheekbones that were full and rounded in high school, but then grew sharp and defined throughout college, that I’ve planted so many kisses on. His blond hair that’s been styled in a hundred different ways over time, from the hair-flip to the buzz cut I hated, that I never get tired of running my fingers through. The way he smirks suggestively at me, the birth mark on his hip I always admire, the echo of his laughter.
How do I even begin to forget him?
“Gracie .?.?.” he says, his voice lowered now, pained. “I just think we owe it to ourselves to live our lives without each other. We’ve been together since we were fifteen.Fifteen.We’ve never had the chance everyone else gets to find out who they are as individuals, because it’s always beenus. And I’m not saying we are over for good. Maybe I’ll come back. But I need some breathing space first. I don’t want to propose now and then, twenty years down the line, regret sacrificing my youth.”
His words aren’t any he didn’t already say on Monday, except that final line. That final line is a complete blow. My mouth is agape.
“You think being with me has been asacrifice?”
Luca steps forward and grasps my wrists. “No. But I’m scared one day I’ll feel that way, and that’s why I need to do thisnow. Please, just let me get everything out of my system and then I think I’ll be ready to be with you forever.”
“Youthink?” I spit, pulling my wrists free. I don’t recognize the person standing in front of me, let alone understand him. “You don’t get to do this to me, Luca. You don’t get to leave me, do whatever the fuck you want, and then come crawling back. If you really loved me, you wouldn’tneedbreathing space. I feel so .?.?. complete .?.?. being with you. That’s why I can’t ever begin to understand why you don’t feel that way too.”
Luca tucks my hair behind my ears and cups my cheeks, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I love you,” he says, then lets his forehead rest against mine and stares deeply into my eyes. “You know I love you. But I have to do this.”
I reach up for his hands and push him away from me, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t let him hurt me like this, to walk in and out of my life whenever he pleases, to have me question why I wasn’t enough to make him stay. I deserve better than this. I deserve better than him.