Chapter four
The breakup went better in one way than expected, worse in another. I felt like I was something disgusting she was ready to scrape off her shoes, not a boyfriend she'd miss, not someone she'd once loved.
She said some ugly stuff. But she clearly didn't want to stay together anymore than I did.
I told myself after—as I was shoving some final items into my luggage, to head out the door—that I shouldn't be so fickle.
I hadn't wanted her to fight to stay together, had I?
I hadn't wanted her to get angry and throw things.
A few words shouldn't hurt so much, especially when it was clear we were actually on the same page for ending things, and in fact overdue.
No, I guess what hurt is that it had clearly been over for a while now, and I'd only recently figured it out.
Some part of me—a small part of me—must still want to fight for this relationship, to get back what we once had.
I couldn't hate her, but she hated me, and that hurt.
I'd spent years of my life with this woman, and thought I might spend the rest of them with her.
Somewhere along the way, we'd quit fitting together properly.
I'd resented her double standards. And she'd stopped liking me at all.
So no, she didn't break any of my things. Just my heart, a little. Whatever size piece I'd still had all for her.
Funny how you think there's nothing left to break, but somehow there still is. Funny how you think nothing else can disappoint you or hurt you, and then it does.
I walked out and didn't look back. I wanted to feel like I had my self respect, my freedom, my fresh start. But I didn't. I just felt like shit.
#
You okay bud?
I stared at the text from Arlie. I didn't want to answer, but he'd worry if I didn't. I made myself type a response.
Sure.
I'm here if you need to talk. Or anything else.
I didn't respond.
Think about moving in with me and the pack? You don't have to, but it's an option.
An option that felt like giving up, like proving just how weak and unmanly I was, that I couldn't even take care of myself while getting over a breakup.
Then again, Arlie had never looked down on me or even hinted that he thought I should be more manly and independent.
If anything, he got his feelings a little hurt if I didn't let him look after me or check in about how I was doing.
This was literally the man who pulled me onto his lap at the bowling alley in front of everybody.
So if I didn't let him be there for me now, it was really only for my own pride, not because I thought he'd look down on me or think less of me. He didn't, and wouldn't.
But yeah, my pride was hurt. Both by everything about the relationship, including how it had ended, and by my partner thinking I couldn't handle it on my own. I mean. Maybe I couldn't. But I didn't like him thinking that.
Still, this issue was about my feelings and not him doing something wrong or judging me. He just cared. I didn't want to take out my prickly feelings on him. Besides, if I turned him down now, and ended up having to crawl back and ask for help later, wouldn't that be twice as embarrassing?
I'm thinking about it, I texted him. Not sure how well that would work.
My phone rang. He was calling me. I debated for longer than I probably should have and then picked up.
"I don't want to be talked into anything," I told him, rather grumpily, even though I hadn't wanted to be grumpy with him.
"No, of course. It's just easier to talk than text."
Yeah. I knew that about him. He struggled with the tiny symbols on his phone and his big fingers. He also struggled a bit with spelling and getting letters and words mixed up. My partner was quite smart, but it wasn't always the kind of intelligence that worked well with tests and texts.
Between one thing and another—learning differences, discrimination, and poor access to education—a lot of shifters didn't find reading and writing easy.
Much less filling out forms, navigating complicated tech systems, or sometimes even texting.
My partner did his best. He still found talking easier than texting.
"Listen," said Arlie, "you don't seem comfortable with the idea of moving in with me and the pack. That's okay, if you need your space. We can find you somewhere else, if you haven't found a place already. I just don't want to leave you hanging if you're having trouble, okay?"
I let out my breath. "Okay." I sagged, looking around at the small hotel room. It wasn't much, and I wasn't going to enjoy staying here.
I thought of the breakfasts and cheerful friendliness of the pack.
I always felt welcome there. If I stayed there, it might be awkward, but it would be pretty convenient, too.
Good meals. Fewer responsibilities. Arlie and I could commute together for work.
I could basically play life on easy mode for a few months till I got my shit together.
It wasn't like I needed privacy to date, not right away. Hell, maybe not for a while. I didn't know when I'd feel ready to tackle those waters again. Right now I didn't feel like I'd ever be ready, but I'd probably feel differently when the breakup wasn't so fresh.
Well, what the hell?
"How would we manage it?" I asked, sounding more uncertain and maybe even nervous than I meant to. "Would I move in to your room?"
"No, no, you'd have your own room. Privacy. Nobody's going to bug you. Near my room, though. If you needed me."
God, he was being weird. He must really be worried about me.
The truth was, he probably had every right to be.
As messed up as I'd been about my relationship, there was no guarantee I'd be less of a mess now that it was over.
It would probably take me a while to get my balance back.
I just hated being so see-through to him.
But he was my partner. How was I going to hide from him?
"And they'd let me pay rent? I'm not doing it if it's just charity."
"No, you can pay rent. I talked with the alpha. Won't be hard to set up. Everybody's fine with it if you want to move in. They have been for a while, but I knew you weren't interested when they first talked about it, so I didn't say anything."
"Wait, they wanted me to move in before?"
"Sure, but you had your own place, you know? It's different for non-shifters. I knew you and Darby wouldn't be interested in moving in with the pack. You guys needed your space."
"Yeah," I agreed faintly. We'd been building a life together. Planning to buy a home, all the rest of it. Despite myself, despite everything that I didn't regret at all, tears threatened. Damn it, that had been a dream I'd liked—growing old together, having our own home. None of that for me now.
I swallowed back the emotion. Had to get over it. I couldn't keep looking back. I wasn't going to wallow.
"When could I come and look at the room?" I asked.
"Really?" He sounded shocked at my agreement—and thrilled.
Well, maybe one of us would be happy. That would be nice.
#
Arlie seemed nervous when he showed me around the room. It was already set up nicely, spare and clean, with a cozy feeling of simplicity. The dresser had clearly been through some things. The curtains were a soft faded yellow. There was an old rag rug on the floor.
"It's not very fancy," said Arlie, sounding like he was second-guessing himself.
"I don't need fancy." I turned and gave him a brief smile.
The bed was a twin. Just big enough for me. It looked perfect.
"I guess I should go get my stuff?" I said. "And pay the deposit."
"No deposit, just the rent you agreed on. Handshake deals, for pack."
"I'm not pack, though."
"You're my partner, so close enough."
I didn't know about that, but I liked hearing it. It was nice to think about belonging somewhere, about being wanted.
"We can go get your things now," he said.
"Sure," I agreed vaguely. It wouldn't all fit in one room comfortably—my hobby stuff—but I could bring enough clothes to live comfortably.
Maybe set up my gaming system. It was weird how much my life was changing, and all I could think about was would dumb stuff.
Would I have time for gaming? Would it be uncomfortable to be around the pack so much when I wasn't at my best?
Was I leaning on my partner too much? It was all a bit too much to figure out.
He put his hand on my shoulder. "Let's go now. No need to put it off."
I turned to look at him. I meant to say something. I just didn't have any words. I felt so empty inside. He studied my face for a moment, and then put his arms around me and gave me a tight hug. I hugged him back.
Things shouldn't feel this hard. But right now, they did.
#
I drifted through the next few days, and then weeks. Slowly, I began to feel more like myself. I was gaming again, but not to an excessive amount. I still went out and did things with Arlie and the pack.
They took to having me there, like I was a good friend or a relative in need. They were friendly, cheerful, and relaxed. Nobody pushed me, but they made sure to include me when it was reasonable.
The food was good. It was easy to get used to living in a kind of dorm room situation again, with low responsibility, with no relationship stress or drama, and with people always around but not intruding.
They were careful about that, and I was sure Arlie had talked to them about no barging in on me or inviting themselves in.
If my door was closed, I might as well have been in a different country.
Nobody interacted or pushed me to do things at all.
Communication with the pack was usually through Arlie, and it was clear to me he was being protective. But I didn't mind.
It felt like life was swirling around me, going on, while I stayed in a tide pool, marinating, resting, not doing much, not feeling more than I could help. It got to the point where I felt like I wasn't doing great, but I wasn't doing poorly, either.
I woke up one day and looked around and realized it had stopped feeling temporary, like I was a guest. It just felt normal now.
I wondered what that meant.
I didn't miss her or even think about her every day after a while.
My life had changed. I think my standards had changed, and my beliefs about myself.
I was no longer sure I could pick a good partner (romantically, that is—I'd clearly picked a winner when it came to work partners).
I certainly wasn't ready to start dating again, even to soothe my wounded pride.
I just felt so tired at the thought of even downloading an app and putting myself out there. I still felt like a bear hiding in my cave, not ready to face the springtime. But at least I was starting to notice that it wasn't actually winter anymore.
I was going to be okay. I was going to get over it.