“I’m not sure why it matters.” That comes out a bit harsh, but she’s the one who decided to pry.

“Oh.”

So familiar. Instead of clarifying or apologizing for being intrusive or even coming back at me for my tone, she uses that one word. As Annabelle so often did in the past, she pairs it with downcast eyes and bowed shoulders.

In the beginning of our relationship, that word and pose would bring on a strong wave of guilt, and I’d spend hours doing my best to make up for upsetting her. I thought she was fragile, possibly hurt from a past experience and in need of some coddling. Then, when we spent time with her parents, I watched her use the same pose on her father while giving me a sly smile behind his back. That was when I realized how skilled she was at lying with her body when she wanted to get her way.

But I’m not her boyfriend. We’re not even friends really. So, I don’t need to put up with her manipulations.

“If you have something to say, Annabelle, just say it. I don’t want to play these games. My friends are waiting for me.” I keep the anger of the past out of my tone and just speak straight.

Still, her mouth pops open, and her eyes widen. I’m not the same guy I used to be with her, and I don’t feel like pretending.

“But not your girlfriend?”

She’s asking me to spell out that I’m not with Holly. Like asking me to twist a knife in my own gut.

Well, I don’t owe her that. I don’t owe her anything.

“My relationship status isn’t something I want to discuss with you. I get the feeling you’re asking because of more than just general curiosity. I’m not trying to be mean, but we’re not dating anymore, and I think that’s the best. We didn’t work.”

“I just don’t understand what happened. We were perfect together.”

This only emphasizes my point. The fact that she has no idea how I felt about our relationship means communication really hadn’t existed. We were just surface level.

“It wasn’t perfect for me. This isn’t going to happen between us, and it’s not because there’s someone else.” That’s mostly true.

When I broke up with Annabelle, it was for my own reasons. But, now, even after just spending a short time with Holly, I’ve glimpsed what real attraction is. Maybe, without her, I would have relapsed and gone back to Annabelle. Now, I know I never will.

“But what did I do wrong?” She still has her fingers curled around my arm, her grip becoming tighter and making my fistula itch and ache.

“Nothing. You were just yourself, and that’s completely fine, but we don’t work together. Don’t change who you are. Just find someone who wants to be with you. I’m going now.”

I disengage from her grasp and head downstairs before she can call me back to fix something that never worked right in the first place. I’m ready for something new. Something that feels right.