I shoot Sarah a reply.

Me: Meet you at Gusto at 6.

***

I live for New York in the spring.

Something about the people busy in the streets. The sidewalks blooming with energy. The scent of blooming dogwoods and food carts, and I finally remember why I love this place.

I throw on my go-to black button-down and beige pants. My hair’s slightly disheveled, the strands falling over my eyes the way Sarah likes so I leave it.

Gusto is dim and cozy, humming with the low buzz of after-work chatter. She’s already there, center of the room in a yellow sundress that makes her skin glow. Her hair is pinned back in a sleek ponytail that falls over her shoulder, gold hoops dangling from her ears glistening in the light.

She looks like an absolute star.

“Hey, babe,” she says, soft and distant. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

I pull her into a hug, holding on a second longer than usual. It’s been weeks. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until now.

“So? How’s it been going?” I kiss the top of her head, fingers brushing the back of her neck.

She eases out of my hold and slides into her chair. Her coldness is giving me the heebie-jeebies. Her body language is sending me all the wrong signals. She’s never this quiet.

"What’s wrong?" I ask, settling into the seat across from her.

Sarah fidgets with her fork. “Caleb…”

Her voice is shaky, making my stomach tighten.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us. And… what are we even doing?”

I blink. “Uh… we’re two people who love each other and—”

“No.” She cuts me off. “We’re two people who don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”

The words hang in the air. Where did this come from? Dammit…maybe she did find out about my night last night.

"Is this about the girl I hooked up with last night?" I cringe.

Sarah sits back in her chair and blows out a long breath. "No, Caleb. It's not about that. It's about how much I don't care when I should."

I give her a half-smile. “Who cares when it’s fun, right?”

She doesn’t smile back. She takes a deep breath. Her eyes are steady, but I can see the fear in them. “I want to break up.”

Water slips down my throat the wrong way. I cough violently, grabbing my glass like it’ll save me from drowning.

"What?" I manage between coughs.

A waitress appears, takes one look at our faces, and wisely backs away. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

“Where’s this coming from?” I ask once I can speak again.

Sarah looks everywhere but at me. “Caleb, I—I want more. We’ve been circling the drain for years. That can’t be normal.”

She’s waiting for me to agree. To finally admit that the chaos we called love wasn’t working anymore. But…I’m not sure if I want to admit that.