He was leaning casually on a red SRX bike parked on the street that leads up to our house. I didn’t take much notice. I was busy trying to hatch my escape plan. He waited for me to approach. There is no other way. I sighed and continued moving forward.

I got closer.

“ Hi.”Gave me a tentative smile.

I dug my hands into my back pants pockets and prodded on. I was getting really close. I was inches away when he took a deep breath and slung his other arm around me. I froze.

“ Hey, I’ve missed you. You seem to be all around the place. You’re never at home whenever I visit.”

“I’ve been busy.” I said quietly.

“Busy? Doing what?”

“Whyso many questions?”I retorted in my bitchy tone.

He seemed to be taken aback by that one. He must have not heard that tone from me yet.

Using that unguarded moment, I took hold of his arm on my shoulder and flicked it away. Flicked it, like it was some dirt caught in my clothes.

He stepped back, seemed genuinely confused, his practiced air of confidence slowly vanishing.

I started walking away. He grabbed my hand.

“ We need to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Yes we have. You’re not taking my calls, you seem off whenever I’m around, or you’re always somewhere else. You’re …”

“It’s over.”

“No, you still love me.”

“ Not anymore, don’t you get it! You and I both know that it was over when I stopped taking your calls.”

He faltered again. Maybe processing that bit of info that I had been drumming in his head for weeks already. God, I hate repeating myself. I started to walk away again. I suddenly feel very tired.

“Don’t”..he falters…”don’t just walk away like that.”

I turned around with a calmness that even surprised me.

“Watch me.”

Then I just walked away. Not caring if he was instantly jubilant that I’m finally out of his life, or if he actually was heartbroken.