I waited up for him Thursday night. His flight was delayed, so what had originally been scheduled as dinner turned into “maybe we can still grab dessert,” then finally “too late for food, but we need to see each other anyway.”

It was 9:45 p.m. when he finally showed up.

I met him at the door. “Hey, you,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “I missed you.”

Despite his traveling, he still smelled like California—like sun and salt and ocean breeze.

“I’ve missed you too,” I responded. “How was your trip?”

His eyes danced. “So good. I can’t wait to tell you about it.”

I knew in my gut if Jamie started talking before I did, he wouldn’t stop, barreling forward into a proposal I didn’t want. If I could avoid it, sparing us both the awkwardness of that serious of a rejection, I had to try. I squeezed his hand. “Let’s go sit down.”

We moved into the living room, and I said a silent prayer that my fortitude would be enough to get me through the next half hour. I wouldn’t deny I’d been somewhat of a mess the past few days, but at least on this point, my conscience was clear. Jamie wasn’t the man for me. For all my warring emotions, that truth had settled into my heart, and I knew it was right. I didn’t want a relationship full of doubt or uncertainty. I didn’t want grand gestures to convince me to hang on. I didn’t want to need convincing.

I’d spent a good deal of the drive back from Asheville thinking about what had led me to go after Jamie in the first place. It was Simon who had approached me after the game. Simon who had complimented my playing and offered me water. And yet I’d looked right past him. To be fair, I’d been told he had a girlfriend, which he had. But more than that, I’d let my competitive spirit drive me forward. Jamie was a conquest. The untouchable, undateable brother. He was the grand prize, and I was a girl who hated to lose. It wasn’t a fun realization to make. It made me feel shallow—more superficial than I wanted to be. Which was precisely the problem with my relationship with Jamie. We were happy because things remained surface level, nothing but a few manufactured connections to take us deeper.

I don’t know how I thought he would react to the breakup. Remembering how annoyed he was over lost soccer games, I probably should have anticipated a bigger argument. But when I told him how I felt, I was totally blindsided by his anger.