Too Late For Your Proposal

ie

broken pieces. I imagined myself, just a week ago, in this very hospital bed, sobbing into my pillow, desperately checking my p

anxiety, I' d finally drifted off. When I woke, the first thing I saw was the harsh white of the hospital

g, wide smiles plastered across their faces. The caption, bolder and more defiant th

er me. It wasn't the usual fresh wave of pain, or the familiar sting of jea

surge of inadequacy. I didn't wonder if I was pretty enough, fun enough, carefree enough. I just saw two people, ob

one. Replaced by a blank canvas. I hadn't cried since that initial breakdown. I hadn't checked his las

er, for the first time. She was still fighting a battle I had already surrendered. And Carter? He wa

clean. I pushed myself up from the bed, the IV still at

e," I said, my vo

tended like a peace offering, the calm I felt was absolute. This wasn't about anger

rough the silence, each word precise and delibe

re you talking about?" he stammered, lowering the box slightl

et over our relationship? The fact that you told me not to come crying to you? The fact that you ignored my call

ng to Bridget, who suddenly

uffocated you," I continued, my voice unwavering. "Well, consider

a moving company to pick these up. They should be here any

tonight, there'll be no more contact. No more texts

poken in a foreign language.

rything, just as I had done countless times in my head. But no. This need

o would crumble. But that Ellie was gone. Buried under layers of pain and finally, a profound sense of self-preserva

fight he could easily win by playing the victim. This quiet, unwave

at moment to interject, her voice sharp. "Oh, for heaven's

get. He looked at me, a flicke

To just throw everything away? All those years? Our plans?" He gestured vaguely between u

mbling out, but they fell

om the front door. "Moving company, ma'am! H