“I know, Jamie!” she hisses, glancing at Juliet’s shut bedroom door and lowering her voice. “You think I don’t know that?”

“It doesn’t feel like it. You’re telling me I’m on standby indefinitely, that we can’t be a couple because of my roommate—the man your sister chose to date. Do you know how terrible that feels, Bea? To be set aside so readily?”

Tears slip down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to . . .” She groans in frustration. “I’m trying to be honest about what I think my sister needs, and yes, it involves a sacrifice, but it feels like you’re willfully misunderstanding me, Jamie. I’m not breaking up with you. I’m asking for a break, for some time.”

“Time,” I say, breathing through the ache in my chest. She’s telling me I’m the one who’s irrational here, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like once again, I’ve been assessed as deficient and discarded. “How much time, Beatrice? For this ‘break’?”

She throws up her hands. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t exactly have a schedule for my sister’s recovery from emotional abuse, so I guess you’ll just have to wait to hear from me, Jamie.”

“A ‘break’ with no end date. Sounds an awful lot like a breakup.”

Fire flashes in Bea’s eyes, which fill with tears. “It certainly does, when you put it that way, Jamie.”

“I’m sorry, how else exactly could I put it?”

“I—” A quiet, pained growl rolls out of her. She clutches her hair in two big fistfuls and tugs. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. And you’re not making it any simpler.”

“Well, my sincere apologies for being inconvenient, for wanting clarity and an actual answer about this.” She’s silent, her head hung as she tugs harder at her hair. “And that silence right there,” I tell her, “that’s all the answer I need.” Yanking at my cuffs, I adjust the buttons until they bisect my wrists. My chest is painfully tight.

Turning on my heels, I leave her standing on the threshold.

When my feet hit the pavement, I run.

—

Weeks feel like years. I go to work. I run until I’m exhausted. I feel hollow.

I avoid all places that I could cross paths with Bea. Meaning I go to the office, and then I go home. My apartment is empty of laughter and full of silence. The only calls I get are from my father, which end in a furious voicemail about “remembering where my loyalty lies,” complete with insults and veiled threats because I didn’t stick up for Jean-Claude’s despicable behavior. Jean-Claude complied with my demands and moved out. I was gone when he left, and he was gone when I returned. Good riddance.