The break up
“I don’t love you anymore. Let’s end things now.”
The words did not just hang in the air, they settled, heavy and final, into every corner of the living room.
Hale Scott stood near the door, still in his work suit, tie loosened like this was just another conversation after a long day. In his hand was a file.
Star Williams sat frozen on the couch, her fingers gripping the fabric as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.
“Please… let’s try again,” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of disbelief. “I love you so much. I can’t bear losing you.”
Hale didn’t respond immediately. He looked at her the way one looks at something already concluded.
They had been together since their university days. What began as an easy friendship had grown into the kind of love people pointed at, the kind friends envied, lecturers joked about, the kind that seemed immune to time.
For five years of marriage, they had been that couple.
Until Alice Voss appeared.
After that, everything shifted. It didn't happen suddenly or dramatically, just enough, at first, to make Star doubt her instincts.
Hale stayed late nights, and this became routine.
Missed calls became explanations.
Silences became arguments.
Some nights Hale didn’t come home at all.
Star had asked questions, gently at first, then desperately but every attempt ended in quarrels that stretched into the early hours of the morning, leaving both of them exhausted and unresolved.
She had loved Hale with a devotion that shaped her entire life around him. He was her first love. The only man she had ever allowed herself to imagine forever with. The man she chose willingly, fully and believing they were building something unbreakable. She gave him all of her, including her virginity.
In their third year of courtship, she had received two postgraduate scholarship offers. One in Texas, one in London but she rejected both.
At the time, it felt like a romantic decision.
Now, sitting in that same house she had chosen over her future, it felt like something else entirely.
Hale had once loved her just as fiercely. Back then, he had been the attentive one — doing her assignments when she felt overwhelmed, bringing her meals at odd hours, insisting on carrying burdens she never asked him to carry. He listened. He supported her. He stayed right by her corner.
Now, that version of him felt like a story someone else had told her.
*****
“I’ve signed,” Hale said, extending the file toward her. “You should as well.”
Star slid off the couch before she even realized she was moving. Her knees hit the floor.
“Hale… please,” she sobbed, clutching the edge of the table to steady herself. “Let’s fix this. We can go back. I want us to work. I still love you.”
The words dissolved before they could reach him.
Hale placed the file down.
Then he walked past her.
The door slammed shut behind him.
The sound echoed through the house, through the walls, through the years, through every sacrifice she had ever made.
And for a long time, Star remained there on the floor.
She had become too weak from crying and she sat on the floor listening to the silence he left behind.
It was the first moment of her life where there was no one to be strong for.
