Too Late For Your Proposal

ie

erful announcement, sliced through the tense silen

, ma'am! Here f

ip. Carter's face, already pale, drained of all color. Bridget, who had been tr

ing uniforms stood on the threshold, clipboards in hand. "Ell

voice calm, almost detached. "Yo

sulting his clipboard. "Looks like we're

nched. He looked from me to the movers, his eyes darting frantic

de and gesturing into the apartment. "All t

, his voice laced with desperation. He took a

movers. "Thank you so much for coming on

renching, soul-crushing experience. For years, the thought of leaving Carter had been a phantom limb-a constant, throbbing ache t

e, only to unpack it hours later, craving his hollow apologies, his manipulative promises. All those times I had threatened to leav

I realized, with a jolt, that I didn't need his begging,

ket. "Here's the delivery address," I told the lead

dramas of human lives unfolding around their work. They move

ed and ragged. He lunged forward, placing himself dramatically in front of th

t breaking up! I don't agree to this! I was going to propose! Bridge

n vaguely at the empty space where his future with me supposedly lay. "You k

cheeks, leaving shiny tracks. He looked utterly broken, a man on the verge of total collapse. P

ing control, a cold voice in my head whi

um, desperate to reclaim a toy

rough his frantic pleas, "you're maki

m. Begging him to listen, to care, to just see how much he was hurting me. I

another one of Bridget' s suggestive texts on his phone

terference, I had collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. He had calmly stepped

solutely nothing. It was a strange, liberating emptiness. He was

job, Carter," I said, my