It’s three days before Sophie calms down enough to talk to me. We meet at her apartment.

As soon as I see her, I can tell she’s been crying. She’s wearing gray sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen. Her apartment smells like Chinese take-out.

She lets me in without saying a word and retreats to the living room, where she sits on the arm of the sofa with her arms folded across her chest, staring at me. “Well?”

I sit down on the seat beside her and try to take her hand. She pulls away from me. I take off my jacket, and Sophie glares at me like even that small act means not having my priorities straight.

I let out a long breath and hold up my hands helplessly. “What can I say, Soph?”

She lets out a scornful laugh and shakes her head. “That’s it, then. Clearly, you’ve made up your mind. When you said you wanted to talk, I thought there’d be a discussion, but obviously not. It’s history repeating itself all over again.”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you.”

“Aren’t you? Let me tell you to your face, Cole: you’re hurting me.” She raises her hands in anger. Her eyes are filled with tears. “It was you who sent me a message. It was you who decided you wanted to meet when you realized it was me you’d texted. It was you who begged for a date and pursued me. It was you who wanted to move in. You’ve been the one pushing this whole thing along, convincing me that it was everything you wanted, and now you’re dropping me like that.” She snaps her fingers.

“I’m not dropping you.”

“Of course, you are!”

I rise from my seat and stand in front of her, my hands held out beseechingly. “It’s you who insists it has to be either-or. Why do I have to give up my career to be with you? Why does that have to be a choice I make?”

“It doesn’t work. We’ve tried it before.”

“For all of six weeks, when we were in our twenties. We’re both more mature now. We’ve both gone ten years surviving without each other just fine, so what makes you think you can’t survive without me while I’m away on assignment?”

“‘Just fine’? Maybe you’ve been ‘just fine,’ Cole, but I haven’t. I loved you with everything I had, and I’ve never loved anyone like that since. I’ve gone on hundreds of first dates, and nothing has come close. I put you on a pedestal and pushed away any guy who didn’t compare. And what was even on that pedestal? Some egotistical jerk who’ll pick me up and drop me again whenever he feels like it.” She rakes her fingers through her hair in anguish. “You think that I don’t want you working far away because I’m some pathetic woman who can’t fall asleep without you holding my hand? No; it’s because I can’t handle always being second-best. When you’re working for the paper, you’re unreliable, selfish, and you couldn’t give a damn about me.

“How many times did you stand me up because some new crime had just gone down? How many times did I go to dinner with your dad without you because you canceled last-minute? How many times did I make apologies for you because you weren’t there? Sometimes, I didn’t even think you heard me when I was speaking. You would nod along, then switch the conversation to the next huge disaster you were obsessed with. I meant nothing to you in that headspace. You thought you were someone so significant, and I was nobody.”

I shake my head. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? You walked out on my parents’ anniversary party. You stood me up on my birthday. And those are just the big things. I can’t count the number of times I asked you for the smallest thing, and you didn’t deliver. Cole, can you pick up some milk on your way home? Cole, can you defrost the chicken? Cole, can you record a show? The whole relationship became one-sided. I supported you financially. I cooked your dinners. I washed your clothes. And you didn’t even have the time of day for me.

“To everyone else, you might be a superhero the second you pick up that camera and head into a war zone, but to me, the second you step into that role, you become someone I can’t stand.”

“Last time, you supported me because I was starting out. I’m walking back into a place where I have a reputation. I’ll be earning great money, Soph. I’ll be looking after you. I promise.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your promises are worthless.”

“Does it even matter to you how much this work means to me?”

“I know it does. It’s significant. It’s important. I know, I know. But while you’re doing things that are so significant and important, I become less and less of a priority to you, until I might as well not exist. It’s one thing when everyone else sees me as someone in your shadow, but another thing when you think you’re better than me, too.”

“I never thought I was better than you, and I don’t want this to be it for us. Things are different. Look at you! You’ve done amazing without me. You’re doing great at the bank; you have Lena. You’re standing on your own two feet. We can have it all.”

“You can have it all. You get to have your cake and eat it, too. You get the amazing job, the fame, the glory, the adventure, and to come home to a woman who’s always there waiting for you. I get the worry, the loneliness, and the whole world thinking I’m an idiot for still pining for you after all this time.”

“I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I wouldn’t let it all blind me again. You’d be my priority, no matter what.”

“And say I go with this, and you go back to the paper, and Sudan, and whatever other disaster zone your camera takes you. How long until you’re the next Edward Bates? It goes one of two ways, Cole—you take groundbreaking photos, win a Pulitzer, and your career carries you away, exactly like before, or you die out there. It might be worth the risk in your eyes, but either way, I lose you.”

“When I got injured and lost my post, a part of me died. This is who I am.”

“It’s who you choose to be. You don’t have to go. You could stay with me. You’ve spent all these months convincing me that we can be happy living just like this. And we have been, haven’t we? Why do you want to give that all up? Why aren’t I enough for you?”

She turns away from me, putting her face in her hands. I can see her shoulders heaving with sobs.

I stand and put my arm on her shoulder. “You’re everything to me.”

Her shoulders stop heaving. She takes a deep breath to hold back her tears, then spins to face me. Her eyes are cold and stony. “I’m not going to try and convince you to stay anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to be with Cole the superhero photojournalist who’s never here and doesn’t give a shit when he is. I want to be with this Cole.” Her eyes meet mine, begging me to understand. Then, she looks away and folds her arms in an ultimatum. “I don’t want to walk the same path again. If you choose work, that’s up to you, but I won’t stick around.”

“You really want me to choose between you and this opportunity?”

She shakes her head. “No. You should go.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want to be the woman you settled for when you wanted more.” She raises her shoulders in a tight shrug and lifts her eyes to meet mine. Her gaze is steely. “Even if you stay, it won’t be the same. Go.”

My veins fill with ice. This feels like the end of everything. “This isn’t what I want.”

“You want it all, Cole. I only want you.”

Her words sting, but I don’t know what else I can say. We’re back where we were ten years ago. “This is my calling, Sophie. I’m not the same man when I’m not out in the field with my camera.”

“Then go be that man. I’m done trying to stop you. It’s clearly in your nature, and you can’t fight that.”

“This is really the end?”

“We said we’d try, and we did.” She swallows and blinks away more tears. “We wanted to believe it was the timing that was wrong, but it’s us. This isn’t meant to be. Go.”