It's too bright in here. It should be illegal for fluorescent lights to be so bright.

My head is pounding. From the hangover or the misery, I'm not sure. No matter what I do, I lose Nick.

It hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to breathe.

There's a knock on the bedroom door. It's followed by a soft voice.

"Hey, Lizzy. You up?" Kat asks.

"I am now." I throw the comforter over my head, inspecting my cocktail dress.

There's no time to change or make up a believable cover story.

Kat enters the room with a glass of water. She sits on the bed and hands me the drink. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

"I went out with Sarah and felt like coming here."

She opens her palm to reveal two ibuprofen. "Want to try again?"

"I wanted to see you, but you were out."

Despite the doubt in her expression, she hands over the pills. I swallow them and down all the water. The pounding in my head lessens by three percent. It's enough to motivate me to find my glasses and drag my heels to the kitchen.

According to the microwave, it's almost noon.

Kat pours and fixes two mugs of coffee. "You have ten messages from Nick. Does that have anything to do with your appearance here?"

"My phone was off last night."

She pushes my drink across the counter. "Sue me. I was worried. I've been caught up with wedding stuff and we haven't talked much."

"Two weeks from tomorrow."

She nods. "Not going to distract me." She sips her drink. "What happened?"

The squiggly thoughts in my brain straighten out. It's bright. I have coffee. I can think clearly, even with the pounding in my head.

There's really no decision here.

Nick loves the company more than anything. More than he'll ever love me.

I stare at my coffee. It's dark and deep, like Nick's eyes.

There's a pang in my chest. This is going to hurt so fucking bad, but it's the only thing that makes sense.

I look back to Kat. "I have to break up with Nick."

"Why?"

I struggle to find an explanation that won't give anything away. "He's in love with his job."

"So?"

"So? Didn't you break up with Blake because he was in love with his job, and he didn't love you or something like that?"

"Technically." She points to her engagement ring. "But I did give him another chance."

"He got lucky. You're forgiving."

"What about your internship?"

"I'll find another one."

"You're only halfway through the semester. What about school?"

"I don't know." I press my fingers into my mug. "Maybe... I wasn't learning anything. Maybe school isn't right for me."

"Elizabeth Marie Wilder! You are not dropping out of college because a guy broke your heart."

"It's not because of a guy. It's because the classes are worthless. I'm better off getting a junior programmer job somewhere. I'll learn more."

"I don't believe you."

I stare into my coffee, willing some kind of contentment to form in my expression. It's all true. I was thinking about skipping college for an internship before I got that scholarship to Stanford.

"Blake's gotten better about work. Maybe Nick can—"

I stare her down. "Why do you care anyway?"

"You were happy last time you talked about him. I want you to be happy."

I study her expression. There's something she's not telling me. I'm sure of it.

"Is that all?" I ask.

"He sounded so worried about you, Lizzy. Like he really loves you."

"When did he sound worried?"

She blushes, embarrassed. "I might have listened to his voicemails."

"Snooping brat."

"I'll make you pancakes."

"Won't Blake freak about the mess?"

"Let him." She slides into the seat next to me and looks me over like she's inspecting a torn painting. "There's more going on. You can tell me."

"It's the only decision that makes sense." I play with the bottom of my cocktail dress.

"Feelings aren't logical."

"No, but decisions should be."

"Lizzy—"

"I've made up my mind. Now make me pancakes if you want me to forgive you for invading my privacy."

She frowns but gathers a bowl and flour.

I give Kat a few minutes to get started, but she has no idea what she's doing.

I take over the process, measuring, stirring, and flipping until my entire world is pancakes.

I'm almost finished when the intercom buzzes.

Kat excuses herself to answer. "Yes."

The doorman speaks. "Katrina, there's a Mr. Marlowe here to see Miss Elizabeth Wilder about a personal matter."

I can't breathe.

Not now. Not here. Not yet.

She turns to me. "Do you want me to let him in?"

I turn off the stove and take a deep breath to collect my senses. There's no way to stop this. Maybe it's better to get it over with, so it's not hanging over my head all day.

I nod. "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Worry flashes over her face, but she turns back to the intercom. "Let him up. But give us two minutes first."

"Of course, Ms. Wilder."

She unlocks the door and makes her way to the kitchen. Her eyes bore into me, examining me the way she examines something she's going to draw.

"You know, if you do love him, you might be able to work this out. Whatever it is," she says.

"I made my decision."

"You look like you're going to cry."

"I have to do this!" I bite my tongue. I can't get upset. That will bring questions, from Nick or from Kat or both. I have to convince them that I'm okay with this.

My stomach twists. It must be the hangover. I tear a pancake in half and stuff it into my mouth. It's perfect. Fluffy and slightly sweet with a warm burst of blueberries.

"Do you want me to go?" she asks.

"You can stay on the couch."

There's a knock on the door. My chest tightens. The room goes cold. I'm not sure I can do this.

Kat answers the door with a polite handshake hello. Nick is ragged. He's still handsome and well-dressed—jeans and a sweater today—but his eyes are tired and he's at least two days without a shave.

He'll be happy soon.

He'll have the company back, and he'll forget about me, and he'll be happy.

That's what I want.

A tear forms in my eye. I wipe it away. I'm not crying. Not yet.

He comes closer, until there are only three feet between us. "Lizzy, what happened?"

"Nothing. I went out dancing with Sarah. I guess I was a little drunk. Just one of those drunk phone calls."

His brow furrows. His eyes fill with doubt. He's not buying this story.

I step back. "It's good you're here though. I have to talk to you about something."

He moves closer. Until he's six inches away. His fingertips slide over the side of my cheek. My body fills with warmth. God, he feels good. I fight my desire to wrap my arms around him. That will only make this harder.

"You've been crying." His voice is soft.

"It's just a hangover."

"You're a terrible liar." He wipes a tear from my eye. "Tell me what's wrong, baby. We can fix it together."

I shake my head.

"We can."

"No, we can't."

"Lizzy—"

I step back, breaking from his touch. At once, I'm cold. My back tenses. My stomach churns.

"Did you come here because you thought I'd come looking for you at your apartment?"

"Did you?"

"Yes." He stares into my eyes. "What happened?"

"I realized something."

Dread spreads over his face.

I want so badly to wipe it away. I want to run my hands through his hair, to wrap my body around his, to soothe him today, and tomorrow, and every day, forever.

But this is the way I can make him happy.

The only way.

I stare back at Nick. "I think we should. No, there's no think, no should." I gather every ounce of strength in my body. "I'm breaking up with you."

Kat jumps towards the bedroom. "I'll give you guys a minute. Sorry." She slams the door shut on her way out of the room.

Nick moves closer. His hands go to my lower back and he pulls my body into his. "Tell me you don't feel something right now." He leans down and presses his lips against mine.

God, how I feel something. I feel everything.

I step back. "I care about you, Nick. That isn't the problem."

"Then what is?"

"Your life is full. You have your company. That's your priority. That's what makes you happy. There's no room for anyone or anything else. And I have a lot on my plate too. Figuring out what I'm doing with school. This relationship was never going to work. It's better if we end it now."

His eyes fill with sadness. "You don't believe that."

"Yes, I do." I try to convince myself. I make my voice as loud and confident as possible. "You'll be happier when you can focus on your work."

"And what about your internship?"

"If it's still there after this sale stuff settles down... I'll ask another one of the programmers to teach me."

"None of them know AI like I do."

"I know." I bite my tongue so I can focus on how much that hurts instead of how much my heart hurts. "I'll find another internship."

His eyes go to the floor. "Is there any way I can change your mind?"

I rack my brain for something, some bone I can throw him so that he can fix this.

Nothing comes.

"You have your priorities," I say. "I have mine."

He steps back. "I respect your decision." His eyes meet mine. He opens his mouth like he's going to speak, but he says nothing.

"I'll walk you out." I press my hands to my sides so I won't be tempted to touch him.

Nick waits until we're at the elevator to speak. He turns to me, his eyes wide with something I don't recognize.

His voice is soft. "This could be forever."

The elevator doors slide open. He steps inside, his eyes on the floor.

"But if this is what you want—" his eyes bore into mine "—I do trust you."

The doors slide shut.

Nick is gone.

I make it all the way to the spare room before I curl into a ball and cry.