Nathan had barely slept.
The weight of his own words lingered in his mind like an echo.
"I think we need to talk. For real this time."
He had sent the message last night, his fingers slightly trembling as he pressed send. He hadn't expected an immediate response—Olivia never did things on his time. But he had at least expected something.
An acknowledgment. A question. A reaction.
Instead, she had left him on read.
Nathan lay in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling the familiar frustration claw at his chest. This wasn't just about last night. This was about all the nights before—about all the times she had made him feel small, invisible, unimportant.
He sat up, running a hand over his face. His body was heavy with exhaustion, but his mind was awake, restless. This conversation had been a long time coming, and he knew there were only two ways it could go:
1. She would listen, understand, and change.
2. She would dismiss him, blame him, and prove once and for all that she never truly cared.
Nathan wasn't sure which answer scared him more.
Memories of a Love That Wasn't
He thought back to the early days.
Two years ago, Olivia had been different. Or maybe he had just seen her differently.
They had met at a coffee shop—one of those random, movie-like encounters where she had taken his order by mistake. She had laughed, a little embarrassed but completely unbothered, and Nathan had been captivated.
She had been confident, opinionated, and full of life. Unlike anyone he had ever dated before.
And at first, that fire had been exciting.
She was independent. Strong-willed. She had her own life, her own dreams, her own world that didn't revolve around him.
And Nathan had loved that.
Until he realized that meant he would never be a priority in her world.
At first, he told himself it was fine. He admired her independence. He didn't need to be the center of her universe. But over time, the imbalance became clear.
She expected him to be there when she needed comfort.
She expected him to listen when she vented.
She expected him to be patient when she was too tired, too busy, too stressed.
But when Nathan needed her?
She was always somewhere else.
With work.
With her friends.
With Daniel.
Especially Daniel.
Nathan closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. He had let this go on for far too long.
Today, that ended.
Reaching Out
By noon, he had waited long enough. He grabbed his phone and dialed her number.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
Then, finally—
"Hey," Olivia answered. She sounded relaxed, like she hadn't left him stewing in his own thoughts for hours.
"Hey," Nathan said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I was gonna text you back, but I figured you just needed time to cool off," she said with a small chuckle.
Nathan's stomach twisted. Cool off?
Like he was overreacting.
Like he was the problem.
"Olivia, I meant what I said last night," he said, his voice firm. "We need to talk."
"Okay," she said, her tone clipped. "So talk."
Nathan hesitated. He had run through this conversation in his head a dozen times, but now that he was here, actually speaking to her, he wasn't sure where to start.
He took a deep breath.
"I don't feel like I matter to you," he said. "I feel like I'm always making excuses for you, always waiting for you to choose me the way I choose you. And I don't think you ever will."
Silence.
Then—
Olivia let out a laugh.
Not nervous. Not guilty.
A full, amused chuckle.
"Oh my God, Nathan. You are jealous."
His stomach dropped.
"It's not jealousy," he said, gripping the phone tighter.
"Then what is it?" she challenged. "Because it sounds a lot like you're upset that I have friends."
Nathan exhaled sharply. He had expected this. The moment he tried to express his feelings, she flipped it on him.
"This isn't about you having friends," he said, his voice controlled but firm. "This is about the fact that I never come first."
"Nathan, that's ridiculous."
"Is it?" he shot back. "Because every time I ask for your time, there's always something more important. But when Daniel needs you, you drop everything."
Another pause.
Then, Olivia's tone shifted, turning cold.
"I don't like what you're implying," she said.
"I'm not implying anything," Nathan said. "I'm telling you how I feel."
"Well, maybe you should work on your insecurities instead of blaming me for them," she snapped.
Nathan's breath caught in his throat.
This was it. The final confirmation that he had always feared.
She did not care.
She never had.
For a long moment, he said nothing. He just let the weight of it settle in his chest, cold and suffocating.
And then—
Something inside him snapped.
"You know what?" he said, his voice eerily calm. "You're right, Olivia. I don't want you to change. Because you're showing me exactly who you are. And I'm finally done pretending I'm okay with it."
Silence.
For the first time, Olivia didn't have a quick comeback.
"Nathan," she said, her tone uncertain now.
"I'm done," he said simply. "I deserve better than this."
Another pause.
Then, Olivia let out an annoyed breath. "Jesus, Nathan. If you wanted to break up, you could've just said that instead of making this whole thing a guilt trip."
Nathan almost laughed.
Even now, even here, she refused to acknowledge her part in this.
"Goodbye, Olivia."
He hung up before she could say anything else.
For a long moment, he just sat there, staring at his phone. His heart was pounding, his hands slightly shaking.
But for the first time in a long time, he felt something unexpected.
Relief.
The weight was gone. The constant waiting, the endless disappointment, the feeling of being less—all of it had disappeared in a single breath.
He was free.
Nathan set his phone down, exhaled deeply, and leaned back against the couch.
It was over.
And somehow, he knew—
He would be okay.