She remembered it so clearly—the way he stood there, tense and conflicted, telling her they needed to step away, to see if he could force himself to like someone or something that wasn't her. He wanted to socialite more, to meet people who weren't tied to the Mei sisters, as if distance from her family might grant him clarity. As much as it pained her, she let him go. What else could she do? Clinging to him any longer would have been selfish, and she knew their relationship couldn't continue the way it was.
They both were heartbroken—yet not entirely. Part of her felt a strange, liberating sense of relief where he had a chance to see the world and people a new. At last, they both wouldn't have to shoulder the weight of both of their unrealistic expectations from each other. Still, they cried. She cried for the love they'd shared and the life they'd almost built.
