Page 210 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

I slip my underwear and a shirt back on before following her. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear?—”

“Me? You mean you don’t care?”

“I care. I care a great deal. I’m the one being forced to leave.”

“As if being left behind makes this easier? Spoiler alert—it doesn’t. I’ve been the last one standing, and it’s never fun. My parents left me. My grandparents. Fucking Karl took all he could and then packed his bags to go. So I understand the tough position you’re being put in, but I’m the one being abandoned.”

“This is business, Juni. I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving this city. That’s all.”

She positions herself on the other side of the couch. “It may be business to you, but it’s the same asit’s just the science we need to discover,which is what my parents said every time before they left me, too. You were becoming my everything.”

“Notwere. Youareeverything to me.” I deserve this, to hear every word though I already knew what she’d say and what she’d do before she did it.

“Not if you’re halfway to Seattle already.”

“That’s not fair?—”

“You know what’s not fair?” she yells. “Talking about a future that was never going to happen. Why would you even talk about living together when you knew you were leaving? Did you think I would drop everything, my life here, and run to live life in your shadow?” Her volume decreases with every word spoken. Not because she’s less angry, but more, and she’s trying to control it. She’s trying to control her emotions and tuck them safely back into her world, leaving me out in the cold.

I move closer, coming around the couch. Her arms are crossed, and that fire in her belly is blazing in her eyes. She doesn’t move, holding her ground. “This isn’t about hurting you.”

“But you’re doing it anyway.” Her voice is eerily low.

“I’m not abandoning you, Juni. I won’t stay forever. Seattle’s not my home.”

“Neither is New York. So if you’re looking for the location closest to your heart, you’re heading in the right direction.” Her arms finally uncross, and when a breath releases, her body’s resigned. “You always talked about LA, and I sat here and listened. I sat here hoping that maybe I was different. Maybe I was the one who would make you want to stay.”

“I want to stay with you, but I?—”

“I know. You can’t. You go do what you need to do, and I hope you find happiness.” Her tone’s not cruel. It’s conflicting because it’s genuine. “But I think you should sleep at your place.”

Standing there, I want to argue, but I think I’m out of opportunities to convince her of my true intentions. Her mind is set tonight. “You’re probably right. We need sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow after we both get some rest.”

She moves to the door and opens it wide. I take the handle of my suitcase and walk into the hall. I turn to tell her good night, but she says, “Good night,” and closes the door before I have a chance.

I stare at the door a few seconds longer, trying to process what just happened. It feels a lot like we just broke up. That can’t be right. We’re running off exhaustion and heated emotions. After a good night’s rest, we’ll be able to think clearly again.

* * *

Another chance tohave this conversation in new light didn’t come. I spent most of my day hanging out in her hallway. It wasn’t until night came on Saturday that I found her on the rooftop with Rascal. I started for them but stopped when I heard her crying.

I don’t want to sneak up on her or Rascal, but I’m not sure how to approach them. I stop overthinking because I’ve lost twenty-four hours because of that and start walking. “Juni?”

She looks over at me and says, “Unless you’ve changed your mind, Drew, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“You say that like I have a choice.”

Swiping at her cheeks, she raises her chin. “We all have choices, and it sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

“You don’t understand the position I’ve been put in. I’ve worked my whole life for?—”

“I know. You’ve told me. The thing is, I thought you’d changed.”

“Change what? My career? How I make money to survive? What exactly was I supposed to change? I like my job. I know that sounds foreign to your ears, but just because someone loves what they do for a living doesn’t mean they’re lost to the dark side.”

It was then, at that moment of anger, that I realized I’d crossed a line with her.

There wasn’t fire in her eyes or a swift tongue to smart back. Her body language wasn’t resolute, but the opposite. That was the exact moment I lost her, and I knew it.

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