As I was sorting through the large pile of laundry in my bedroom, West stopped at home to change for his evening shift at the restaurant.

“Ah, laundry. I did mine just yesterday over at Tristan’s,” he said, reaching for a water bottle in the fridge. “No Kam tonight?”

“He gave me the evening off,” I replied absently as I separated whites from colors.

“Why do you look bummed about that?” he asked, leaning on the doorjamb.

“What?” I replied, startled. “I…I’m not.”

He was right. I did feel bummed about it. Thing was, I wasn’t completely sure why.

When he arched an eyebrow, I sighed and sank down on the mattress. “Dunno.”

He played with the plastic bottle cap. “Maybe you’ve been doing it for so many days, it feels…useless not to help?”

I considered that as I added another shirt to the color pile. “That might be it.” But it didn’t feel quite right.

“Or maybe you enjoy his company?” he asked cautiously. “It’s not like I’m ever around.”

“True.” I picked up a wad of socks and tossed them in the pile. “But I’ve definitely lived by myself before.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said with a shrug. “Gotta grab a quick shower and run. See you both tomorrow, though?”

I nodded as my stomach seemed to rumble right on cue. “Looking forward to it.”

After he left, I heated up a frozen pizza and ate it on the couch in front of the television. Then I reached for the Xbox controller and played Call of Duty: Zombies with an online party. Kam hadn’t been able to do much gaming without free use of his arms, so I enjoyed myself for the first hour, doing something I used to partake in quite frequently.

But shortly after that, I shut off the console, having lost interest. As I stared out the darkened window, I realized I missed Kam’s company. His grumpy one-liners. His smile. His solid wall of warmth beside me. Helping, bickering…hunkering down in his bed with the remote in hand.

I reached for the collar of Kam’s sweatshirt I’d borrowed, brought it to my nose, sniffed it. It smelled faintly of laundry detergent and mostly of his shower gel. But there was a hint of Kam in there, his unique scent that I’d come to know just from being in the same bed with him every night. I closed my eyes and pictured his warm sheets and comfortable mattress.

Where the hell was my head right now?

When I heard a faint knock, I distractedly walked toward the sound, vaguely wondering if West had forgotten his key.

When I swung open the door, Stewart stood in the hallway, confident and cocky as always. A flurry of emotions took hold in my stomach. Disbelief. Curiosity. Most of all anger. “Seriously?”

“You’re never home anymore,” he said in a rush as he stepped inside without an invitation. “I spotted your car outside, so I thought I’d try.”

“Ever hear of a phone?” I replied, folding my arms.

He threw up his hands. “You never text back or answer my calls.”

I shook my head. “Shouldn’t that give you a hint?”

“If you’re seeing someone, I want to know who it is.” He clenched his jaw. “If you’re just using him to get over me—”

A frisson of agitation slid up my spine. “What the hell?”

“I miss you,” he said, sliding his hand to my hip, and in the past that action would’ve made me shiver. But this time it felt manipulative. And all wrong.

I stepped away from him. “Listen, Stewart, you need to stop this. I’m not seeing anybody new, but we’re never getting back together.”

“Don’t say never.” It was that same flirty voice I now realized was his way of slipping back into my good graces.

“I need to,” I replied and then felt a momentary stab of guilt when I saw sadness flit through his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“What is it that we didn’t have?” he asked in a soft voice. This was him actually being vulnerable, but I wasn’t falling for it this time. He could be moody and manipulative every other time, and I never knew which side would be revealed next.

For sheer comparison’s sake, I thought of how easy it was to be around Kam, even when he was feeling down. Not that we were dating, obviously, just that he was someone I saw quite a bit of recently.

“You were never easy-going,” I replied, tapping my fingers together like I was creating a checklist. “You made all the decisions.”

“You liked when I called the shots,” he scoffed, his mouth turned up in a sneer. There was the Stewart I knew and loved.

The very thought made my gut churn. The fact that I was so head over heels for him, I didn’t see how domineering he was. At least…I didn’t want to see it.

“That’s your definition of being a controlling bastard? Calling the shots?”

“You always agreed with everything,” he retorted. “I never knew you were unhappy with anything we did. At least not until the very end. And even then, you only told me you needed time to sort out your head.”

“Not true,” I refuted. “I tried to get you to see that things always had to be on your terms.”

“Like what?” he asked, folding his arms.

“For example,” I responded, trying to make him understand, “remember when I was pretty sick this past year?”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” he said, waving his hand. “When you had a chest infection or whatever.”

“You…” I started pacing, the realization slamming into me all at once. “You made me come to your place.”

“Huh?” he asked, scratching his chin.

I poked a finger at his chest. “You had me pack stuff and leave… You didn’t even consider staying here so I could have my creature comforts around me.”

Imagine if I did that to Kam. Though I wasn’t sure he would even stand for it. Except he’d sort of have to because he’d been so helpless these last weeks. Just like I was those few days with Stewart.

“That’s ridiculous,” Stewart responded. “I had a lot of important things to do—”

“It’s not ridiculous. It’s really fucking not. And you had important things? What about me?”

When he sputtered for a reply, I placed my hands on his shoulders and nudged him toward the door. “I need you to leave.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll do better,” he suggested over his shoulder. “We can always choose whatever the hell you want to do.”

I could almost picture it: him snubbing his nose at my choice of movies and restaurants, like my decisions weren’t as good or valid as his.

“It’s about more than that,” I replied. “It’s about really understanding that a relationship requires compromise. About appreciating somebody for what they have to offer.”

“I did—”

“Nah, not nearly enough. Go do some soul-searching, and while you’re at it, lose my number. Goodbye.”

Once he was far enough out in the hall, I closed the door in his face.

I took a deep breath as relief flooded my pores. I felt lighter, like I was floating on air.

I did it. I finally fucking did it—for good. For me. Damn, it felt good to take charge of my life. My emotions. My common sense.

The guys would be proud and probably say it was about damn time; Kam would be pleased and give me one of those wry smiles I’d come to expect…and look forward to.

I reached for my phone on the coffee table to text him and then hastily set my cell back down.

Maybe he asked me to stay home tonight because he needed a break from me. From us.

The thought sat like a stone in my gut. Maybe he was sick of having people in his face all the time. I thought of him huffing in exasperation and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

His hair. I was supposed to wash it tonight so he’d feel better about going to Tristan’s tomorrow. Damn. Maybe he’d ask Samantha to help instead. My nostrils flared. I found I didn’t like that. Not one bit.