17. Samantha
Chapter seventeen
Samantha
George’s lip curls upwards in disgust as he looks around the office. I resist the urge to squirm in embarrassment under the judgment of his gaze.
“This is the place? I thought an actress or something lived here, so you’d think they’d spruce it up or something.”
George is as judgmental as I realize. I’m offended by the way he casually said this place was basically a dump. It might not be as fancy as our place back in Chicago, but it’s still great. There is this cozy, small-town charm here, which I never got back in the city.
I know George comes from more money than me, but there were moments when he showed it off in a way that sort of put me down. I didn’t let it bother me sometimes, but right now, this place is where my kind, generous cousin, who built it with his own hands has let me crash unannounced.
Even Stan, the child of an A-list celebrity, has never made me feel as self-conscious of where I’m from the way George just did.
“It’s my cousin’s place,” I remind him.
Maybe he sensed the offense in my tone because he turns to look at me. His eyes still carry that bored look. I’d expect a little more reaction from him, but this is as much emotion as I’m going to get.
“I’m breaking up with you,” he says.
I stare at him blankly. Rather than feeling heartbroken, a smile starts to form on my face.
“What?” I start to chuckle a little. There’s no pain in my heart. Nothing. I’m genuinely laughing.
George smiles, too, and scratches the side of his face, “Come on, I know you heard me clearly.”
“I kind of think I didn’t.” I shrug, the grin refusing to leave both our faces.
I take a good look at him and notice this is the longest I’ve seen him smile naturally. Been ages.
“So why am I being dumped?” I cross my arms.
“You were going to dump me, weren’t you?” He mirrors my stance, “I decided to beat you to it.”
I look him straight in the eye like I promised myself I would and blow past all the lines I’ve been practicing. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
A couple of beats pass before he says, “I figured this was coming.”
A sad laugh bubbles up out of me. “Now I feel worse.”
“Really? There’s no reason to feel bad,” he says, waving his hand in the air. “I haven’t really been in boyfriend mode for months now. Work and all. For instance, I wasn’t planning on leaving early today, but my boss looked at me like I had two heads when I told him my plans for the weekend. He asked me why I wouldn’t just make a long weekend of it. Insisted I leave early and hit the road.”
I grimace. “So you were itching to see me?”
“No,” he says softly, and I don’t even feel hurt. “Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to see you. Even when I had the faint idea that this was going to happen, I wanted to see you. But I wasn’t in a state of panic that I was about to be dumped. It more or less felt like…”
“Relief.” I complete his statement, and he nods in approval.
“You know, even living together, it slowly started to feel like we were more roommates than lovers,” he adds. “It didn’t feel like you saw me as a lover, and I wasn’t seeing you that way either anymore. It felt awkward, but not in a bad way… you know?”
“Yes. I’m sorry,” I say again, because I am. I’m sorry to see this chapter of my life end. It wasn’t all bad. But I won’t miss it, and I’m not sad about the new one I’ve started.
“Sam,” George says. “Don’t apologize. I’m not upset. We were young when we met. We both grew up, and I think in that process, we grew apart.”
I nod, expecting tears to well up in my eyes. But they don’t. I could tell him all the ways he went wrong as a boyfriend. But I don’t.
I’m sure he’d have a list for me, too, if we wanted to venture down that path. I’m not sure what else to say or do.
So I open my arms, offering him a hug.
He stares at me for a second, contemplating. “Sure, what the heck? ”
He accepts the hug, and it doesn’t hurt. It feels like one you’d give to someone you just met at a meeting. There’s no lingering emotion.
I feel lighter, relieved, and ready to start again.
We stop hugging, and l stare at him. Life has returned to his eyes. He’s relieved, too.
“You know, you have no idea how happy I am this is mutual,” he says. “I was so worried that this would break you, and I’m glad I was worried for nothing.”
“You’re such a sweet person sometimes, George.” I’m not lying. He is.
“Sometimes?” He raises a brow. “And here I was thinking it was all the time.”
“Tch, so full of yourself.” I roll my eyes.
His smile softens. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
His question takes me back to that moment with Stan before we left the office. Before he walked away.
“Are you?” I ask him.
George smiles good-naturedly, “Yeah. I am.”
I can tell he’s sad, but if I’m being honest, I’m also relieved by how he’s helped make the breakup easier for both of us. He took charge and let himself be the initiator.
That’s nice. Awful nice.
“I’d love to go pay your parents and cousin a visit while I’m here,” George says. Are you cool if I crash for the night? I’ll take off in the morning.”
“Yeah, of course,” I lie. But I’m not cold-hearted enough to send a grown man who has been considerate of me springing a breakup on him out of nowhere out onto the highway.
I might feel relieved about ending things with George .
But that relief is eclipsed by feeling downright worried about how things will progress for me now, especially with Stan.