Page 7 of Love is a Game

“I forgot my retinol and vitamins.”

“Then check thoroughly for all your stuff this time—because this is it, Stella. After today, the doorman won’t give you access. You decided it’s over. Which usually means not showing up at your ex’s place uninvited. Clear?”

That sets her off. “There you go again, Tuck. Blaming me! Like you’re some innocent bystander to our relationship. You’re the one who can’t commit, who can’t prioritize me in your life!”

“I’m not doing this,” I warn, brushing past her toward the living room.

It’s not that I’m heartless. I’ve just learned that dragging your way through a breakup does no one any favors. It needs to be a sharp, clean cut. As steady-handed as a surgeon. Rehashing your mistakes just turns it into a ragged hack job that leaves you repeatedly bleeding out.

“Don’t walk away from me!” her voice trails me as I make a sweep of the apartment for anything she might claim as hers.

“You wanna know why I’m done?” she continues. “Because you never consider my needs. Ignoring me half the time. ThenPenelopewaltzes in,whenever,and you drop everything! Make her coffee! You never askmeif I want coffee!”

“Because you don’t fucking drink coffee!” I spit out. “Why would I offer you any?”

“That’s not the point!” she screams.

I slam the closet and move on to scan the bathroom. “Then you better get to whatever the point is because I’m done with this crap, Stella. These petty arguments about how much attention I give you? It’s bullshit. This is my life—my business takes focus and dedication. I’m not one of your loser friends living off trust funds and planning their next music festival weekend.”

Her face tightens, but she doesn’t back down. “It’s not because of all your business interests. It’s because of oneperson,” she says with an acidic smile. “I see it every time you’re with her. I bet Penelope is thrilled I’m out of the picture at long last!”

“She’s not thrilled about anything considering her mother just died,” I retort.

“Oh…” Stella falters. “Well, I’m sorry. That’s really sad. Is she okay?”

“They weren’t close.”

“But still…” Stella murmurs, trailing me down the hallway. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Everyone knows Penelope isincredible. She’s so stylish and talented. It’s not like I don’t see why you’re so stuck on her.”

“Stella, this isn’t about Penelope,” I remind her. “It’s about us deciding that we don’t fit, okay?”

She stares at me, unblinking, something calculating behind her eyes.

“What?” I frown.

“You’re a smart man, Tuck,” her tone shifts. “Surely you can’t be this clueless. You understand I’m about to walk out that door—and out of your life forever, right?”

“And?”

“Before I do, I have one request that I want you to acknowledge and follow.”

“What’s that?” I fold my arms, resigned to whatever’s coming.

“That you wake up!” she explodes with passionate abandon. “Admit you’re in love with Penelope! Admit it to yourself—and then go admit it to her. Stop wasting everyone’s time. And stop hurting women whoaren’ther!”

I look to the ceiling as my frustration peaks.

“Look, I get that you’re upset, Stella. But you don’t get it. Pen and I…” I pause, searching for the words. “We’ve known each other forever. That’s all. We’re not in love, we just have a…unique connection.”

“Uh-huh,” Stella’s voice is thick with doubt. “What’s her favorite food?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know, it depends.”

“On what?” she presses, arms crossed like she’s got all night for this.

“Christ. Lots of stuff—the season, her period, whether she’s watched any French movies lately, what time of day…”

I stop there, though I could go on.

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