Samuel knew there was no room for negotiation left.
He calmly agreed to the breakup.
He did end up finding that ring, braided a cord for it, and wore it around his neck.
The night before I left, he took me out for dinner.
"Consider this our breakup meal," the man's voice was hoarse, trembling slightly.
The meal passed in utter silence.
The server brought over a bowl of mushroom soup.
Samuel took it and carefully picked out all the chopped green onions inside.
I watched him.
His long, clean fingers trembled harder and harder, until finally he broke down, sobbing too hard to speak.
I did not touch that bowl of soup.
We broke up amicably.
We said our goodbyes to each other.
And with that, my seven-year relationship drew to a close that night.
