“We broke up. What’s the point of staying in contact?” I replied, my voice calm and unaffected.
“We can still be friends, right? Why make things so bitter?”
I laughed. Friends? Exes were meant to stay out of sight and out of mind – that’s the healthiest way.
She seemed utterly clueless, trying to keep me around, even though she knew she’d wronged me, still wanting me to offer her things.
When she heard me laugh, she must have thought I was letting her off the hook because her tone softened immediately. “Brian, maybe we weren’t meant to be, but that doesn’t mean we have to hate each other. As long as you’re there for me, I can treat you like a brother.”
And just like that, she asked me to run an errand for her, like nothing had changed – as if I’d be willing to drop everything to go buy her some sanitary supplies.
So that was it. She didn’t reach out because she missed me – she just wanted something.
But I wasn’t going to let her use me again.
I replied coldly, “If you need supplies, go ask Charles. I’m about ten minutes from catching my train.”
“What? You’re leaving? Where are you going?” she stammered, sounding confused.
“Home. To finish my studies,” I said, matter-of-factly.