Because he was shocked that I had the authority to make that decision.
“You wouldn’t.”
I looked at him.
“You still don’t know me.”
Those words followed him out of the room.
The next morning, sunlight entered the condo like nothing had happened.
That was the strange thing about life.
A person’s world could collapse at midnight, and the sun would still rise at dawn.
I spent the early morning cleaning.
Not because I forgave him.
Not because I wanted to pretend everything was normal.
Because I needed to think.
The broken table was not just furniture.
It was a symbol.
A warning.
A moment where the person I trusted showed me who he could become.
My phone rang at 8:15.
It was my older sister, Clara.
I almost didn’t answer.
But Clara had always known when something was wrong.
“You sound different,” she said immediately.
I smiled faintly.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
I sat near the window.
For a while, I said nothing.
Then I told her.
Not every detail.
Not yet.
Just enough.
When I finished, there was silence.
“Are you safe?” Clara asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
I looked around the condo.
The place that had always represented independence.
“Yes.”
She exhaled.
“I knew something bothered me about him.”
I closed my eyes.
“You never liked him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Clara was quiet.
Then she said something unexpected.
“I didn’t dislike him because he was confident. I disliked him because every time you talked about your achievements, he changed the subject.”
I thought about that.
She was right.
Whenever I mentioned a promotion, he joked that I worked too much.
Whenever I talked about a difficult project, he said I was too serious.
Whenever someone complimented me, he found a way to make the moment smaller.
I had mistaken it for teasing.
Maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe it was something else.
“Do you know what I regret?” I whispered.
“What?”
“I spent so much time trying to prove I was lovable that I forgot to ask whether I was being loved.”
Clara didn’t answer immediately.
Then she said:
“That’s the question you need to answer now.”
Three days passed.
Julian did not apologize.
Instead, he sent messages.
At first, they were casual.
“Are you still upset?”
Then:
“We need to talk.”
