“So that’s it?” Alex asked.
Sam nodded, but his eyes were wet. “I’m sorry.”
The breakup wasn’t dramatic. No yelling, no thrown dishes, no storming out. Alex simply gathered his things—his hoodie from the back of the chair, a toothbrush from the bathroom, the small succulent he’d brought over three months ago. At the door, he paused. The Boyfriend
“Try.”
“I’m seeing someone new,” Sam blurted, then winced. “Sorry, that’s—I didn’t mean to just—” “So that’s it
Alex wanted to argue, to list all the reasons Sam was wrong. But he’d felt it too, hadn’t he? That subtle distance, like standing on opposite sides of a door that was slowly closing.
Sam was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I don’t know how.” No yelling, no thrown dishes, no storming out
Alex smiled, and was surprised to find it didn’t hurt. “Good. I’m glad.”