ATTIOnce
Depends on How This Conversation Goes
The only thing I can hear as I walk through the foyer is the pounding in my chest.
I don’t want to sleep with Jake tonight, so the only way to do this is to end it now.
I turn the corner and find Jake. He’s at the kitchen island, hunched over his laptop, brows furrowed, mouth drawn tight. Whatever he’s reading clearly has him frustrated.
Nerves rush through me until I feel like I might be sick. Maybe it’s not the best time. Maybe this can wait until tomorrow.
He runs a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath. I’m about to step away and sneak upstairs when he sees me.
In two seconds, his face shifts. It softens. There’s a flicker of relief in his eyes, something like want and hope all mixed up into one.
All it does is crush me, because I can’t return it. I can’t smile back. I can’t pretend.
He notices and sighs, shaking his head slightly as he frowns. “You’ve been acting weird around me.”
I shake my head quickly. “I haven’t.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he says.
I glance away, trying to breathe through the guilt tightening around my lungs. My fingers curl around the edge of the counter as I struggle to find words that won’t burn coming out. I feel guilty; I know I shouldn’t.
Logically, what Elena said made sense. But you know who doesn’t care about logic? My stupid heart.
Jake closes his laptop and looks at me, eyes hard. “Is it because you and Zaid are back together?”
I frown, shaking my head.
“Wait, are you together?”
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I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. How do I explain something I’m not even sure
of myself? It’s not black and white. It never was.
I start to speak, but nothing comes.
Jake lets out a frustrated breath and runs his hands down his face. “I need to know where
your head’s at, Alina. I flew across the goddamn country to see you.”
I look at him then. Really look. “Did you come here for me? Or for you?”
His eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just a question, Jake.”
He hesitates. “Can’t it be both?”
I guess it can be. That’s how relationships work, right? But his coming here hasn’t felt
good. It feels like a bump in the road. Like a stop.
“How long do you plan on staying?” I ask quietly instead.
He shrugs. “Depends on how this conversation goes.”
I flinch and a terrible heat bubbles inside me. I’ve never broken up with someone and this isn’t exactly easy. “I think I should sleep on the couch.”
Jake stands suddenly, the stool scraping hard against the floor. “If you’re going to end
this, you should have the guts to say the words.”
The air sucks out of the room. There’s a fire in his eyes I’ve never seen before. It hits me
then that I’ve never seen him angry. At least not like this. Not at me.
He laughs bitterly, shaking his head like he can’t believe this is happening. “You don’t get
to act like the victim, Alina. I wanted to end this, remember?”
I rub my hands down my arms.
“You didn’t want to let go. You made me stay with you. I sent you here for your safety,
and now you’re breaking up with me?”
My voice cracks. “Jake, I didn’t mean to.”
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“Your age is showing. Immature,” he snaps, voice rising.
I jerk back like I’ve been slapped. Tears spill down my cheeks before I can stop them. “I’m glad you noticed it.”
“Fuck, Alina! You can’t throw that back in my face after everything!” he yells, loud enough that I know Zaid heard.
A door slams upstairs. Footsteps. Zaid is in the doorway, eyes scanning the room before landing on Jake, then me. His chest rises and falls in quick, controlled breaths.
“What the hell is going on?” He makes his way to stand next to me.
I breathe out, half relieved.
“Why the fuck are you yelling at her?”
Jake turns to him, fury etched into every line of his face. “I have no fucking idea. I’m done here. She’s your problem now.”
He storms past Zaid and disappears up the stairs, footsteps heavy.
I stand there, shaking, broken. Zaid watches me for a second, then steps toward me. “Alina? What happened?”
I shake my head. “I–I think we just broke up.”
He blinks like he’s surprised, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. He reaches for me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I fall into him. My fingers clutch his shirt, my forehead pressed to his chest.
“I’ve never seen him like that,” I whisper.
Zaid exhales, his hand stroking my hair. He looks down at me, eyes tired, sad, certain. “It was just never convenient for him to be angry with you. So he wasn’t.”
I don’t say anything to that, but feel my stomach sour.
His hands are warm on my back, and I let myself breathe.
Footsteps echo down the stairs. I don’t move, even as Zaid stiffens slightly beneath my
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hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jake step into the kitchen, his bag slung over one shoulder and his backpack in his other hand. His jaw is clenched, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them.
Disappointment crosses his eyes, and it looks so much like defeat. I have to swallow the guilt rising in my throat. His gaze lands on me, still wrapped up in Zaid’s arms.
“I’ll stay at a hotel,” he says, voice quiet as he shakes head. “I’ll head back home in the morning.”
My throat tightens.
He looks at me again. “Happy birthday, Alina.”
Then he turns, and just like that, he’s gone.
The front door closes behind him, and the silence he leaves in his wake is deafening.
Zaid doesn’t let go of me. His arms stay around me, steadying me as I try to process what just happened. My birthday. The end of something. The beginning of something else.
I exhale shakily, pressing my forehead to Zaid’s shoulder.
I don’t cry. Not this time, because I feel free.
