Maria:
“I don’t think I’m competing with him anymore.”
It doesn’t sound dramatic.
That’s what makes it worse.
Noah says it like he’s stating something obvious. Something he’s already accepted.
I try to respond.
“That’s not—”
The rest doesn’t come.
Because I don’t know what I’m correcting.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t fill the gap. Just waits a second, giving me space to say something that actually means something.
I don’t.
“I’m just tired,” I say instead.
It’s the easiest thing to reach for.
It also sounds exactly like what it is — an excuse.
Noah nods anyway.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
No disappointment. No frustration. Just… understanding.
I don’t like that.
It feels like he’s already adjusted to something I haven’t caught up to yet.
“I should go,” I add, too quickly.
He st
