Truman awoke with the feeling of being watched. When he opened his eyes, he realized it was because Ash was gazing at him.

“Hey.” Truman smiled and kissed Ash’s full lower lip.

But Ash didn’t kiss him back.

Something scared and desperate clawed awake in Truman’s gut. “You okay?”

“No,” Ash said miserably.

He sat up, and Truman, feeling too vulnerable lying down, sat up also. “What’s wrong?”

“Truman, I…” Ash tugged on his hair with his fist. “I can’t do this.”

Truman blinked fast, trying to hold back tears.

Oh my god, it’s happening again. There’s something wrong with me. No one wants me. Everyone stops liking me. I’ll never find someone who actually wants to be with me long term. What’s wrong with me?!

“It’s too hard,” Ash choked out. “I thought about it all day yesterday. I came here to tell you last night, and I…I chickened out. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stand not having one more night with you. But I just can’t do this.”

“Do what, exactly?”

His voice sounded thin and choked.

“I can’t like you this much and watch you leave.”

All Truman could do was blink.

“So you wanna stop…liking me.”

Ash shook his head. “That’s impossible. But I just…I’m sorry. It’s just too much. Feeling like I have a par—” He swallowed hard. “I’m already starting to depend on having you here. But knowing you’ll be gone in two weeks…it’s too… I think it’s better. Easier. If we stop now. Before I… Just before I can’t take it anymore.”

Truman was frozen, his heart shuddering to a halt with paralytic cold. “Can we…talk about it?”

“I can’t,” Ash said miserably.

Truman felt like something was happening that he should have some control over, but he didn’t. So he defaulted to what he’d always said in the past when people broke up with him, and in saying it, he slid back into a version of himself that now felt like it didn’t quite fit.

“Oh,” he heard himself say, as if from a great distance. “I understand.”

“You do?”

Now that Ash had dumped him, all Truman wanted was for him to leave before Truman fell apart.

“Sure. Yeah. I get it.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Truman said numbly.