Clarity

“I don’t want to see you anymore.”

I should have known. Curse my unrelenting optimism. 

The signs were glaringly obvious, now that I look back. We had been seeing each other casually for five months with nothing to show for it. I’d asked him multiple times if we were exclusive, and each time he’d changed the subject. I felt like such an idiot.

The morning sun shone brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the chipped sunflower-patterned coffee mug steaming where it sat in front of me. My fingernails tapped the mahogany table delicately, lips pursed.

“That’s not what you said last night,” I said. I couldn’t help myself. I was feeling petty. 

Ethan, my almost-boyfriend, shifted in his seat and glanced around the bustling coffee shop. He’d wanted to do this over text, but I wanted to see his face when he broke it off. He’s feeling anxious, like I expected, but not because of what he had to do. He was worried I was going to cause a scene. 

Me? Cause a scene? Never.

“Things have come up, Jules,” Ethan ventured quietly. I raised an eyebrow as he sat on his hands, trying to stifle his anxious shifting.

“And what came up between now and when I saw you ten hours ago?” I asked, humoring him.

Ethan looked around again. The coffee shop was surprisingly busy for a Saturday morning, but it was the first warm day of the year, so maybe it wasn’t that surprising at all. A barista with a bright pink bob and a sleeve of colorful tattoos was bussing the table closest to us, and she smiled as she walked past. Her name tag read Emily. I didn’t miss the way Ethan’s eyes wandered as her hips knocked our table gently, at the dilation of his pupils or the way his irises deepened with something I’d never seen directed at me before.

“I see,” I said, clarity zapping me like a lightning strike.

“Jules-”

I became frustratingly conscious of my virgin blonde hair, which I normally let loose but today was tied up in a severe bun, and my unblemished skin, so plain not even a freckle decorated it. “I’m too boring for you,” I accused. Even though I was trying to remain impassive, I couldn’t help the insecurity showing clearly on my face.

Ethan rolled his eyes. He always rolled his eyes, especially when it came to me. “You’re so sensitive.”

I snorted, and Ethan flinched. God, when did everything about me become so revolting to him? “Ten hours ago, you thought my sensitivity was hot.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I lead you on. That was never my intention.”

“What was your intention, then? To fuck and go on dates and promise each other a future without a label until we were old and saggy and sad?”

Ethan sighed, “I told you this was just about the sex.”

“Yeah, until you graduated from college,” I stirred my coffee- black, with three packets of Stevia, “I was there at your graduation, sitting right between your dad and your grandmother.”

His grandmother had been so nice, gushing about how cute our kids would be; how she could tell how much happier Ethan was. Little did she know we’d argued the night before about Ethan’s dodgy level of commitment, but we did put on a pretty good show.

Ethan sat on his hands again, growing increasingly frustrated. He’d wanted this to be a conversation over text- emotionless, distant, quick. He would have had the upper hand then. Would have been able to evade the accusing glare I was currently throwing at him.

“I waited three months for you to be ready for this relationship, and then I waited another two months for you to finally call this what it is-”

“It’s just two adults hooking up and enjoying each other’s company,” Ethan interrupted.

I stared at him coldly, “two adults who are ‘just hooking up’ don’t go apartment hunting together.”

Ethan let out an exasperated sound, “you didn’t think we’d actually move in together, did you?”

I couldn’t help it- my mask broke again. Humiliated confusion glimmered in my eyes, “why did we go then?”

“Because you said it would be fun.”

“Because you said you could imagine yourself coming home to me.”

I didn’t miss the way Ethan’s cheeks flamed slightly in embarrassment before he looked away. Shame became a hot thing in my stomach, slithering through my veins and latching on to my heart like a snake. “You’re embarrassed of me, too,” I said quietly. 

Ethan didn’t answer and looked at his phone instead. Then, he looked at the door, as if welcoming any interruption to this conversation. When he still didn’t answer and cast another barely concealed look of longing at the barista, my hands clenched into fists.

“You’re a coward,” I hissed.

Ethan frowned, “how am I a coward, Jules?”

“You led me on for five months, promised me a future you don’t even want, all because you’re afraid of being alone,” I knew I was being too loud, but I simply didn’t care, “I was willing to give up everything to make things work.”

Ethan blanched, “that’s fucking nuts, Jules. We weren’t even exclusive.”

“That’s not the point, Ethan. You promised-”

“People change their minds. When did that become such a fucking crime?”

I flinched. I knew the conversation was over. There was no reasoning with him, and that didn’t upset me as much as it should have. Acceptance was a comforting and quick feeling. I stood abruptly, my coffee unfinished, and started gathering my things.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

I shoved my arms into my green peacoat, “home. This conversation is over.”

“No, you wanted to have this conversation, so we’re having it,” Ethan said, grabbing onto my plaid scarf as I tried to wind it around my neck.

“I just have one last question for you,” I said, tugging the scarf out of Ethan’s white-knuckled grip. I already knew the answer but I wanted- needed- to hear it come from his lips, “did you mean it when you said you loved me?”

Ethan took a deep breath, “no, Jules. I never loved you.”

~

A few months later, as I was passing the coffee shop on my way to run some errands, I peered through the front windows, reminiscing about Ethan. I wasn’t filled with regret or rage, I just liked to remind myself of what could happen if I got too lost in the romance of a new relationship again. I wasn’t even a bit surprised when, looking into the coffee shop, I saw Ethan sharing a table with Emily. She looked adoringly into his eyes and laughed at something he said. I snorted and continued on my way. 

Maybe she’ll be the one to get him to settle down.