Chapter 1

The pot was still simmering on the stove when my phone rang, my boyfriend calling to break up.

"Aleeza," he said, like he'd rehearsed it, "I've given this some thought. We're not really a good fit. Maybe it's better if we just end it."

There was a trace of amusement in his voice—almost playful.

I glanced at the soup, bubbling steadily, and then lowered my gaze. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure," he said.

"Okay," I said.

*****

Andrew paused and then let out a disbelieving laugh. "Are you for real?"

"You're the one who wanted to break up, aren't you?" I replied.

"Aren't you even going to ask why?" he asked.

"What's the point?" I turned off the stove and ladled out a single portion of soup. "We were never right for each other anyway."

We'd been together for seven years, just two weeks since we got engaged, and we'd even planned to have dinner with his mom next week.

But we just weren't right for each other.

"Where exactly are we not right for each other?" Andrew sounded like he wanted to explain himself. "Honestly, I didn't—"

"Honestly, we just don't fit anywhere," I cut him off, taking a sip of the soup. It tasted a bit bland.

"Maybe it was a mistake from the start," I added.

Andrew let out a dry laugh. "Alright, break up it is."

After a pause, he started rattling off all my flaws.

He said, "You're stubborn and difficult, way too clingy, and you throw a fit over the smallest things.

"And you're so suspicious all the time, it's honestly exhausting. Who would want to date someone like that?"

"Yeah," I answered. "So I won't waste your time anymore."

I was just so done.

After a moment, I added, "Oh, and I'll be moving out tonight."

"Hanging up," I said.

I hung up, and the silence around me was deafening.

When Andrew opened the door, I was already packing up my things.

I gave him a quick nod,just a greeting—then went back to my own business, packing without saying anything else.

My suitcase was perfectly organized, every piece of clothing folded neatly and placed exactly where it belonged.

Just as I was about to put a dress into my suitcase, he blocked my way.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

I paused, looked up at him, and said, "Didn't we already have this conversation over the phone?"

He grabbed the dress from my hands and carelessly tossed it onto the couch.

"It was just some breakup challenge questionnaire someone was doing. I just did it as a favor," Andrew said.

"I never really meant to break up with you," he added.

I nodded. "So what? I agreed to break up. Is that a problem?"

He lowered his eyes and then looked at me. "Are you serious?"

"Aleeza," Andrew chuckled. "You've doubted me so many times,so what if I did a challenge for once? Is that all it takes to hurt you?"

I replied coolly, "Do me a favor and step aside. You're blocking my way."

His phone started ringing. He checked who was calling and then looked over at me.

I gave him a quick glance, sidestepped him, refolded the dress, and put it back in my suitcase.

He didn't answer the call.

"Aleeza," he called out, his gaze falling on my suitcase.

"I don't think I've ever let you down, have I?

Is this really all it takes for you to break up with me?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him.

"Then why didn't you answer that call?" I asked.

"If I did, you'd just start another fight," he said.

You could see the weariness in his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. I'm just picking fights for no reason, right?" I said.

I kept packing my stuff.

"What's so hard about picking up the phone? Quit always trying to pin everything on me," I said.

He snorted and picked up the phone right in front of me.

"Hey, Maisy?" he said.

Figures,it was her.

"Tomorrow?" He frowned, glancing at me as I packed up my things.

"Alright," he said.

He hung up and looked at me again. "So you're dumping me because of her? What's the problem with this call?"

I used to always ask him what he and Maisy talked about on the phone.

I was always second-guessing everything between us, but no matter how hard I tried, I never got any real answers.

He looked at me. "You're not going to ask me anymore?"

I shook my head. "Not anymore."

There was really no point in asking anymore.

He sat back down on the couch and lit a cigarette. The tip flared briefly. He glanced at me, frowned, then crushed out the cigarette and snapped it in half in the ashtray.

Andrew said, "You love asking questions, don't you? Always asking if she wore perfume today, or if she had dinner with me again?

"What were you even trying to get out of all those questions, anyway?"