Barefoot and in his sweatpants, Steven grinds coffee beans, smiling over his naked shoulder. “You going to unpack those?”

I’m fingering one of the cardboard boxes that are taking up the majority of his foyer and spilling into his kitchen and living room. Uncle Jake loaned Max and Caden his work-truck.

They helped me move in just yesterday, while Lexi covered my classes for me. We could’ve had one of our other teachers take over, but she didn’t approve of me moving in here.

I’m the last in our apartment, so I don’t know what she expected. Live in a three-bedroom place all by myself and not feel more than a little lonely? I’m happy she and Zoe have moved out. I wish she would be happy for me too.

“I’ll get to it today,” I tell him with a forced smile. “I’m not going to church so I can do this.” My chest feels tight, legs heavy. The idea of finding new homes for all of my things here is overwhelming. For some reason it just makes me tired.

The roar of the grinder becomes everything, and I stare at it as if years were passing rather than seconds. My eyelashes rise to gaze at Steve with the dawning awareness of the commitment I have just made. We are living together now. I turned over my key.

My brothers kept asking if I was okay. They were trying to joke around with me, teasing me about moving in with someone before we were married, as if that matters anymore, but I didn’t take the bait at all. Not even to join in the fun and razz them back.

Hunter showed up and claimed he had forgotten what time it was. Max told him to learn how to set an alarm. Hunter looked at my face and confessed, “I didn’t forget what time it was. That was a lie. This doesn’t feel right. I don’t see you guys together.”

Max and Caden shoved their hands in their pockets, neither arguing. They could’ve yelled at me and it wouldn’t have been louder than that.

“You guys, I don’t need this right now. This is a new chapter of my life. I need your support.”

Caden said, “Who’s lifting the heavy boxes?”

I cocked my chin to let him know that’s not the kind of support I meant.

Hunter rubbed the back of his head.

Max stared at the asphalt as he said, “I didn’t name my son Logan because I hate the guy.”

Pain drifted into my heart. “You said you didn’t name him after my Logan!”

“Your Logan?” Max smiled with sadness.

“You know what I mean.”

He shrugged, “I always liked the name.”

Covering my face, I cried out with frustration, “He’s in a relationship with this fabulous French goddess who wants his children.” Dropping my hands, I shouted at my brothers, “They’re in China! Dancing with each other every night. I don’t even know what that’s like!” I never danced in the show with Logan; it was before he danced understudy. And before it changed to the musical it is now. Ines was in both. “But she does. And she lives with him. And she’s going to marry him. And she’s going to have his babies.” I covered my face again, this time so they couldn’t see me crying.

“Sam,” Max whispered as he walked up and took me in his arms.

I lied, “I’m okay!” but burrowed closer, sobbing, “I made a mistake, Max. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t see. How did I let him go? How can I live without him?”

Caden and Hunter were silent as Max rocked me and kissed the side of my head. “Steven’s a good guy, but if he is not the right guy, you will regret this.”

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Steven asks as he pours the grounds into the coffee maker.

“I can’t do this.”

He freezes, grabs onto the counter. “Shit.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Flipping around he yells, “You’re telling me that now? After I just made space for you, and you brought all your –”

Holding my hand up, I say, “Please don’t raise your voice at me. We never yelled at each other. Let’s not start now.”

His ego glares at me. Despite it, his voice lowers with all the respect we have earned. “Are you breaking up with me, Sam?”

A lump sharpens in my throat. “Yes.”

He swears, eyes frantically searching for something to lock onto that he can make sense of. “I’m such an idiot. It’s Logan, isn’t it. You’re in love with Logan.”

“This just doesn’t feel right. Does it feel right to you?”

He snorts, “Would I have asked you to move in here if it didn’t?” He slaps the counter and makes his fist, tapping the granite while he thinks. “You knew that it hasn’t felt right to you.”

“That’s not true,” I honestly tell him, taking a step closer. “I didn’t realize it until yesterday.”

He flattens his hand and cuts a furious look to me. “But by then it was too late.”

“You say that like my showing up here with my boxes could have been avoided.”

“Yup.”

I take another step. “Yesterday I was too numb to make that kind of a decision. I’m only human, Steven. Can you imagine how cold it would’ve been if I had just pulled the plug without hesitation? Do you think I care nothing for you?”

His eyes soften. But for a second. “It’s a good thing you didn’t unpack. Now you can grab all the shit you’ve been leaving at my house and add it to those boxes on the way out.”

“Does hurting have to make you cruel?”

He turns for the cupboard, producing one coffee cup and staring at it for a moment before he sets it down to fill it up. He won’t look at me as he says, “No.”

I close the distance and place my hands on his back. “You know me, Steven. I would never hurt you on purpose. I was completely in the dark, too.”

He nods, setting the coffee pot down and gripping its handle. “Theo is having some people over to watch the game.” He opens the cupboard, and reaches higher for his thermos, transferring the contents and securing the lid. “I’ll go over there. Keep trying not to hurt me by being gone by the time I get back.” He walks away and leaves my hands empty of a boyfriend, and one less friend.

In the bathroom I am shaking as I text my sister:

Can you come over to Steven’s house?

She replies:

You mean your house? ;-)

I send back:

Not mine anymore.