My Time to Leave When Love Runs Out

I think I really did love Nicole McKenna.

Before my trip, I'd told myself that if she didn't see me off at the airport, I'd break up with her the moment I got back.

But when she actually begged off, citing work, I found myself giving her one more chance anyway. If she didn't come pick me up when I landed, that would be it. She agreed, promising she'd be there the day I got back.

That made me happy enough that I spent the whole trip thinking I'd never bring up breaking up again. Nicole and I would just keep going, the two of us, for good.

I noticed the faint unease sitting in the back of my mind, and I chose to ignore it.

Then, the first night I was away, I saw the post from one of Nicole's friends: photos from a karaoke bar, everyone drinking and singing, with Freddy right in the middle of it all like the guest of honor. Nicole had her hand out, shielding him from a round of drinks, and Freddy was gazing back at her, soft and doting.

If I was honest, none of Nicole's friends ever said it outright, but I could tell they all thought Freddy suited her better than I did. I'd brought it up with her before, but she'd just told me I was overthinking things. After all, nobody had actually said anything like that.

When I pushed, she snapped at me, "Then figure out how to get on their good side so they change their minds about you!"

I swallowed the hurt and let it go.

Then, at one get-together, one of her friends mentioned how careful Nicole had been when she first introduced Freddy to their group, so careful nobody could even crack a joke about it.

"We honestly thought he was her boyfriend!" one of them laughed.

I stared at my phone and said nothing. There wasn't any point in asking.

Why hadn't she waited until I was back to set up the gathering? Did she even know whose girlfriend she was supposed to be? What was the use in asking any of that now?

For the next few days, I stopped doing what I always used to do: checking in on Nicole constantly, sending her little updates about my day. I didn't send a single message, and our chat thread just sat frozen on the last thing I'd asked her before I left, whether she wanted pot roast for dinner.

She'd replied with a single "K."

I pressed my lips together, thinking, pathetic. Just pathetic.

On the flight back, I spent the whole time dreading the possibility that Nicole really would show up to get me, and if she did, what excuse I'd even use to break things off.

I waited four hours at the airport. When her message finally came, telling me to get myself home, the relief nearly knocked me over.

In the car, scrolling through my feed out of boredom, I came across Freddy's latest post: a candlelit dinner for two, and a pair of hands I knew all too well.

The caption read: [I said the rain was boring, so you came to keep me company.]