He Loves Me When It's Convenient

Valentine's Day is supposed to feel special. Couples everywhere, flowers in every shop window, chocolate aisles packed, and my phone — silent. I curled up on the couch with a mug of tea, scrolling past endless posts of people celebrating love. My chest tightens. I tell myself it's fine. I've been "fine" for years now. And then my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen. His name. Late. Always late. "Hey." My stomach flips. I shouldn't answer, but I do. "Hey," I murmur, keeping my voice casual. "You're awake? He asks, like he's surprised. "I am now," I say. My thumb hovers over the screen. Part of me wants to hang up.Part of me wants to hear him. Always does. He talks softly, about nothing that matters. About his day, his work, some minor problem he wants to vent about. I listen, like I always do. Comfor him. Be his peace. It's familiar. Too familiar. "I miss you," he says, finally. My chest tightens. My heart wants to leap. But something tugs at the back of my mind. I realize.... he never asks if I'm okay. He just....says he misses me — conveniently, vaguely. I swallowed, trying to steady my voice. "I... I miss you too." There's a pause. Then he laughs softly. "You always say that." I bite my lip. Always. He's right. Always. And I know the truth. I'm just part of his comfort, a shadow in the background of his life. Valentine's Day. Midnight. Convenient love. I take a deep breath. I should hang up. I should stop waiting for scraps. But before I can, he says: "Do you want to come over?" And just like that, my resolve wavers. He's here, now, as if nothing else matters--but i know better. Do I answer, or finally let this go?