I shrank slightly in my seat, aware I deserved this anger and just slightly disappointed I'd never seen this authority in Harry before now. Still, I wasn't completely fickle, and his rightful command over the events of our unraveling breakup wasn't enough to change my mind.

We were over.

You're free, a little whisper in my head hinted shyly.

Harry rose from his seat, staring down at me a moment longer, a brief flicker of sorrowful hope on his face. I ducked my chin, heard the huff of his breath, and watched his feet march away from the table.

Free to do what?

Across from me, Harry's plate was half-eaten, and I noticed a shaggy yeti eyeing the steak with faint interest. A smile quirked my lips, and then a tear coursed down the side of my cheek, curling into that smile and bringing the taste of salt to my tongue.

There was a meal in front of me too, a duck confit Harry had remarked on with surprise, but I'd entirely lost my appetite. I didn't want to eat, didn't want to remain here staring at Harry's empty seat like nothing had happened.

A shadow appeared at my side. Oh, an actual shadow. I blinked up at the murky face of the wraith waiter and wondered if I imagined a twist of sympathy in their smoky expression.

"Would you…like boxes?"

Boxes of the last meal, moldering in my fridge, reminding me of this mess I'd gotten myself into every time I opened the door?

"No, thank you," I said, my voice sounding somewhat shredded, thin and tight. "Just the check."

The wraith floated away, and I sighed. Maybe I would walk home. It was a long walk, through at least four Chicago neighborhoods, and I was wearing an unfortunately high pair of heels, but it would give Harry time to grab whatever he needed.

You're not even going to fight to keep him?

No. I wasn't.

I'd spent almost three years trimming little pieces of myself away to fit into a life with Harry. Not because he'd asked me to, but because I was scared of what I secretly wanted. Because what Harry offered was safer, simpler. I told myself that I was cultivating a life that made sense for me.

Without Harry, I would have no excuse not to let those dangerous parts of me grow. Already, my skin tingled, as if new sprouts would suddenly burst forth right here in the trendy restaurant, thorny vines newly vengeful for their years of being stifled. I wanted them to cut through the shell of me, yet I was terrified at the idea of discovering what really grew beneath.

I would learn soon enough.

* * *