I take a deep breath as I place all the trash from our tacos back into the Taco Bell bag. “I just don’t think that we should see each other anymore… romantically, anyway. We’re better as friends,” Lucas says.  

Nodding, I outwardly agree. “Friends,” I reply, knowing all too well that I never want to be just his friend. I never want to go back to the ‘just friends’ zone. I’d wasted ten years of my life waiting for this boy, now a man, to come around and see me as more than just ‘a friend’. 

To see me. 

To see the treasure that I am. 

Yet, here we sit in my apartment after finishing takeout, breaking up three years later. Consciously uncoupling. 

I’ll grab my things,” Lucas says. “It’ll only take a few minutes, then I’ll be on my way.” 

I nod. Unable to verbalize my shattered heart, I sit quietly. 

Waiting. 

Staring at the stupid bag of Taco Bell sitting on my coffee table. 

Why bring dinner if his plan all along was to break up? What a death-row-convict-last-meal kind of thing to do.

Lucas stands and crosses my apartment, disappearing into my bedroom. 

It doesn’t surprise me that he wouldn’t comprehend my heart break. He’d fallen out of love a long time ago he said; stayed for the routine. 

Why upset something that’s not broken, after all?

Why, indeed. 

He pops into the bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush before coming back into my living room with a backpack of the few items he kept here. 

Anger fills my heart as I quietly ask, “Who is she?”

A pause. 

But not a denial. 

“Please, let’s not get into this right now?” He pleaded. “We can talk about everything later?” Cute he thinks there will be a later. 

“But there is someone else?” I continue on. No one was going to stop me at this point. 

There was no relationship left to destroy, so fuck him. 

And the girl he was cheating on me with. 

“Nothing has happened,” he states quickly, reading my mind. I guess we aren’t as out of sync as he claimed after all? 

I eye him furiously. 

“Nothing has happened… yet,” he corrects. So, he hadn’t cheated on me…

“But something will be happening?” I said emotionless. 

“I don’t know for sure.” He begins to squirm. 

Good. 

I arch my eyebrow. “Do I know this person then?” 

His sigh is expected at this point. Did he want to discuss his future girlfriend with me? 

Oh, definitely not. 

Was I going to force the matter, making him discuss her with me anyway? 

Oh, most definitely so. 

Because fuck him, that’s why. 

“Do. I. Know. This. Person?” I repeat, firmer this time. 

With a sigh, he confesses, “Yes.”

I nod while wracking my brain, trying to figure out who this mystery girl – or guy, what did I know – is. Who caught his eye? 

“Are you going to grace me with a name? Should I guess?” I glance at the clock on my wall. “I have all night; my plans were canceled.” 

Did I want to know who this was? Most certainly not. 

Would I force him into telling me regardless of my desire to know? Most certainly so.  

I never said that I was a good person. Cross me and see how it goes if you don’t believe me. 

I tilt my head to the side, waiting. 

“It’s Brittany,” he finally reveals. 

Of course it was. His newest coworker. The short one with the blonde hair and the larger than appropriate for her frame boobs. She was more gorgeous than most models. And he thought this gorgeous woman – with a very large brain in that head of hers, mind you – would want him? 

Yep, that tracks for Lucas. 

He certainly was a little boy, wasn’t he. 

Without meaning to, a laugh escapes my lips. His ears perk up at the sound. “What,” Lucas accuses with his own glare, “was that about?” 

I stand, grabbing both of our empty cups off of my coffee table, head into the kitchen, and placing them haphazardly into my sink “Nothing.” 

“That wasn’t nothing, Denise,” Lucas begins, obviously frustrated. 

“Doesn’t matter what it is, Lucas,” I say, turning back around to face him. 

“Don’t be like this,” he tells me. 

“I’ll be however I want,” I inform him with a small smirk. “I’m a free agent; you have no bearing on my life… so, skedaddle along now. I’m sure you have a long night of text flirting to begin.” I dismiss him with an absent wave of my hand. 

“Denise,” Lucas begins again. 

I walk to my door, open it, and wait silently. 

“I thought we could be mature about this,” he said, slowly making his way toward me, backpack on his shoulder. 

I shrug. “I’m a lot of things, Lucas,” I began. “Strong. Independent. …Single.” I pause for emphasis as I glare into his eyes as they lock with mine. “But a doormat for your personal use isn’t one of them. Have a good life.” I point out the door. 

With a sigh, Lucas shifts his bag and makes his way past me. Once outside, he tries one last time, “If you change your mind…” 

“I won’t,” I promise, shutting the door in his face. 

Leaning onto the door, I sink down in my spot. Head in my hands, I take in a deep breath; I won’t cry tonight. 

I refuse. 

Sighing, I stand back up and grab my phone. After deleting his number and our friendships on social media, I plop back on my couch. Grabbing the remote, I begin to scroll through the channels on my television. “Live mas,” the Taco Bell ad rings through my living room as I pause, holding back a sniffle. 

Grabbing the takeout bag off of my coffee table, I walk into the kitchen and toss it in the trash.

Where it belongs. 

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