Quinn stepped off the plane, a light breeze greeting her as she walked through the airport. She felt... different. Not the same person who had left a few weeks ago, lost in confusion and drowning in drama. No, she was freer now. Her time away had done what she needed: given her clarity, time to breathe, and most importantly, time to realize what she really wanted.
The whole trip had been an escape, but it had also been a revelation. She'd gone in hoping for some kind of magical answer to all her problems, expecting some dramatic epiphany to change everything. But instead, Quinn had found peace in simplicity. The beauty of the ocean, the laughter of her best friends, and the quiet moments alone had allowed her to sift through her thoughts without distractions.
And what she realized was this: Ethan wasn't her problem. She had been clinging to the idea of him, letting him become something bigger than he was. They weren't in a real relationship. Not really. They had made an agreement—a contract, a convenient arrangement—but somewhere along the way, she had let herself forget that.
Ethan wasn't her man. And honestly, she had no right to feel angry or betrayed. What had happened between them—everything that had been left unsaid—had been her choice, her responsibility. She had let herself become wrapped up in the mess.
Now, it was time to let it go.
---
A few hours later, Quinn stepped out of the taxi in front of her condo, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She had no idea what was ahead of her, but she knew she was ready for it. She had her own life to live, her own dreams to chase. And whatever happened with Ethan, it wasn't going to define her anymore.
As she approached the front door of her building, she spotted him.
Ethan.
Of course, of all the coincidences, he was just about to enter the building, his hand on the door handle, his head slightly down as he readjusted his jacket.
For a moment, Quinn just stood there, watching him. The old rush of emotions—the confusion, the longing—tugged at her. But it was fleeting. She wasn't that same girl who had left two weeks ago.
She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and approached him.
"Ethan," she greeted, her voice casual, almost as if everything that had happened hadn't existed.
Ethan's head shot up, his eyes widening when he saw her. He opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but paused, taking her in for a moment. Quinn noticed the shift in his demeanor, the way his brow furrowed in confusion, as though trying to figure out what had changed in her.
"Quinn... hey," he said, his voice tentative, uncertain.
Quinn didn't let the silence hang too long. She shrugged and gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I just got back from my trip. It was nice, you know? Really relaxing."
Ethan stared at her for a second, his gaze lingering. He opened the door, but instead of entering, he stepped closer to her. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon. How was it?"
"It was good," she replied, trying to sound indifferent. She wasn't sure what kind of response he was looking for, but she couldn't give him the one he wanted. "It was exactly what I needed."
Ethan studied her more intently now. There was something different about her. The playful spark she usually had, the teasing smile, even the way she carried herself—everything felt... off.
"You look... different," he said, a little unsure of how to approach it. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Is everything okay?"
"Of course." Quinn's voice was cool, distant, but she couldn't bring herself to sound fake. "Everything's fine."
Ethan's lips parted as if he wanted to ask something more, but he stopped himself. He could tell she was pulling away. Something was wrong. She wasn't the same Quinn he'd spent the past few weeks getting to know. The walls he'd worked so hard to break down, the ones that made her laugh, that made her trust him, seemed to have built themselves up again.
He stepped closer, his brow furrowed in concern. "Quinn, wait..."
But she shook her head, not giving him the chance to finish. "Ethan, I'm really tired. It's been a long day. I'll see you around."
Ethan's heart sank, but he didn't press it. Instead, he nodded, his eyes still searching hers for something—anything—that would tell him what had changed.
"Okay, take care of yourself," he said quietly, but there was a trace of hurt in his voice.
Quinn didn't respond. She simply turned and walked away, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hallway. She didn't look back. She couldn't.
---
As Quinn entered her apartment, the door clicking shut behind her, she leaned against it for a moment, letting out a long breath.
What had just happened?
She hadn't expected it to feel so... final. The look in Ethan's eyes had been so raw, so full of questions, but she wasn't ready to give him the answers. Not yet.
Maybe she was just tired. Tired of the games, the confusion. Tired of chasing something that wasn't hers to have.
She shook her head, feeling the weight of everything she had left behind—the misunderstandings, the arguments, the mess. It wasn't worth it. She didn't need Ethan to feel whole. She didn't need anyone to define her worth.
And yet, even with her decision, a small part of her still wondered what would've happened if she had opened up to him. But she couldn't go back. She wasn't that girl anymore.
She was done. Done chasing what wasn't meant to be.
As Quinn walked deeper into her apartment, she was more sure than ever that it was time to focus on herself. The world didn't revolve around Ethan. And for the first time in a long time, Quinn was okay with that.