Ian is still snoring soundly when I crawl out of bed. Staring at him from the doorway, I try to remember why I fell in love with him years ago. I look for the man that used to make me laugh, who found a way to make me smile every day, no matter how stressed out or upset I was.

There were days in college when I would stress over nothing. If I had a test or presentation coming up, I refused to leave my apartment until it was finished. Not only in the sense that it was complete, but that it was perfect. Ian would bring me food and keep me company while I worked. The downside to that was I didn’t get along with a few of my roommates and neither did Ian. There was always tension when they were home, especially if Ian was there with me.

No matter how hard I tried, it was almost impossible to live with three other girls without fighting about something.

Ian’s senior year, I spent a lot of nights at his apartment to get away from them. In the spring, before he graduated, we decided we would like together the next year to save money while he was looking for a job. What he didn’t tell me was he was being head-hunted. He received an offer before the ink on his diploma was dry and I was left all alone. Angela was the only person I had left, and she was living with a group of girls that she barely got along with.

Ian asked me once why Angela and I didn’t live together, and I laughed.

“Think about it,” I said. “If I can’t get along with a complete stranger because we live in close quarters, what makes you think Angela and I would be able to? Sure, we get along great, but part of that is that we have boundaries. Living together could ruin our friendship and we both know it.”

“That’s such bullshit,” he replied, rolling his eyes at me.

It was the first time I had ever noticed how flip he could be about things. He and Angela have never gotten along great, but for him to dismiss my logic because she was involved pissed me off. That conversation turned into the first fight we ever had. I thought about backing down after that first night. All I wanted was for him to understand my side of things and he refused. That made me even angrier, so we ended up spending the entire weekend at each other’s throats. When he left on Sunday morning, I felt relieved.

Maybe we should have ended things that weekend. He showed me a side of himself that I didn’t like. A side that has made its appearance on more than one occasion recently. It’s like he has to be right. Since then, our fighting has only gotten worse. I’ve held out hope that things will go back to the way they used to be, but after the last few weeks, I’m not sure I even want that.

Where did the man I fell in love with go?

Is he still in there?

Shaking my head, I leave him to sleep off the remaining alcohol in his body. If he feels half as bad as I think he’s going to when he wakes up, he’ll need coffee. Lots of it. The least I can do is start a fresh pot. The conversation that’s going to follow hopefully won’t be as difficult if he has caffeine.

An hour later, Ian wanders into the kitchen, plopping down on a bar stool.

“What time did I get home last night?” he asks, rubbing his temples.

Rolling my eyes, I pour him a cup of coffee, adding two spoonfuls of sugar and set it in front of him.

“After two.”

“Oh, God. No wonder I feel like shit. Every time I turned around someone was handing me a new drink.”

Right, I think to myself. Place the blame on someone else. They forced him to drink all of them too, I’m sure.

“That’ll do it,” I say, my lack of compassion evident in each word. “Do you remember coming home at all?”

Let’s see what he knows before I lay into him.

“The last thing I remember is being put into a cab.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” I say, raising my voice as memories of last night replay in my mind.

“Shhh.”

“Oh, sorry. Does your head hurt?” I ask sarcastically. “Is it from the alcohol or from when you fell off the bed?”

“I fell?”

“Yep. It was glorious.” There’s a hint of laughter in my voice that I don’t bother to hide.

“What the hell is your problem this morning?” he asks angrily as he takes a sip of his coffee, wincing when it burns his mouth.

“You are my problem this morning.”

“Me? I’m your problem? You ditched me last night for your boss and you’re the one being a bitch.”

Oh. Hell. No.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knows how much I hate being called a bitch. The only fight I’ve ever been in started because a drunk hussy called me a bitch. Her boyfriend was smart enough to pull her away before I pulled most of her hair out.

When I open them, I find Ian staring at me, waiting for me to say something, his “I dare you” look front and center. Guess what? I’m not going to back down like he thinks I’m going to. This is usually the moment I walk away from him. Not today. Today he’s going to listen to everything I have to say. And he’s not going to like a single word of it, but I couldn’t give a shit less.

“Let me show you how much of a bitch I can be,” I start, leaning across the counter so we’re face to face. He doesn’t flinch, but the look of surprise in his eyes gives him away.

“You decided it would be a good idea to come home drunk last night, after we spent the day fighting, and have sex. Well, I wasn’t interested. When I refused your advances, you got pissed and rolled off the bed. I wasn’t about to have sex with someone who couldn’t even say a two-syllable word without slurring. In fact, I don’t think I ever want that to happen again.”

What am I saying? Where are these words coming from?

“I’m tired of fighting with you over stupid shit. Things that you make an issue. You treat me like you own me. You expect me to do things because you think I should. The job. Sex. Everything. I’m not your possession, Ian. I’m a person. One who can make her own decisions. One who no longer needs you.”

Oh, shit! Did I just say that out loud?

“So, I’ll be moving out today,” I declare, raising my voice, which causes Ian to recoil. “You can find another woman to manipulate into thinking and acting like you want her to. That’s not me. Not anymore. I’m done trying to please you just to be treated like shit.”

Pushing off the counter, I turn and head into our bedroom. His bedroom. Reaching into the bottom of the closet, I pull out a duffel bag and start shoving clothes in it. I’m not sure where I’m going to go yet, but I don’t want to stay here. I can’t. Not anymore.

My limit has been reached. He’s pushed me to my breaking point. Instead of breaking, I’m leaving. I’m done. With him. With this relationship and all the fighting and drama that comes with it. I deserve better than this, than him. If you love someone, you should hold them in high regard and treat them like a prized possession. You shouldn’t push them away, which is essentially what he’s done.

Congrats, Ian. Mission accomplished.

“You’re really leaving?” Ian asks from behind me. When I turn, I find him standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. I expect him to look apologetic or worried. Instead, he’s still sporting his “I dare you” smirk.

“Yes, I’m really leaving. Is it that hard to believe?”

Afraid my resolve will weaken, or that he might see how scared I am, I break eye contact and turn my back to him.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Him?” I ask, spinning around quickly. “You think I’m leaving you for another man? That’s rich. I’ve never given you a reason to think I would cheat on you. I’m loyal to a fault. I should have left a long time ago. We’re not the same people we used to be, Ian. You’ve changed, I’ve changed, and we’ve grown apart. We don’t want the same things in life. It shouldn’t have taken us this long to realize it.”

“So, it has nothing to do with him?”

“Him? Who is this him you keep referring to?” I scream at him, throwing my hands in the air. I’m tired of this conversation already.

“Ryder Dixon.”

My jaw pops open in surprise. Recovering quickly, I laugh at his accusation.

“My boss. The one who yells at me and bosses me around. You think I’m leaving you for him?”

I don’t bother to mention our late-night activities last night. Or the fact that he’s the leading star in my daytime fantasies. Because, really, he has nothing to do with this.

“Let’s just say I’ve heard a few rumors,” he retorts quickly.

“About what?”

“The two of you.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Just that you look awfully cozy at work.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Since when do you believe rumors anyway?”

“Since someone sought me out to warn me. Why do you think I wanted to get you away from him? I knew this would happen if I didn’t. I knew he would sweep you off your feet and you would fall for him. He has a reputation with the women. I know more about him than you think I do. People talk, Emerson. Right now, they’re talking about the two of you. You might want to be careful. I doubt his wife will be as forgiving as I am.”

“Forgiving!” I scream. “You call this forgiving. You’re accusing me of something that’s not true. You aren’t even asking me if it’s fact or fiction. Assumptions, Ian. They make an ass out of people every day. You know what, though? I don’t need your forgiveness. My conscience is clean. Besides, even if there was something going on between us, it’s none of your business now.”

Shoving a pair of heels into my bag, I zip it up, pull it high on my shoulder and move to stand in front of Ian. I want to make sure he can hear me clearly.

“Let me be perfectly clear. I’m not leaving you for anyone. I’m leaving you because I don’t love you anymore. I’m leaving you because you think you own me. You don’t make me happy, Ian. I deserve to be happy and this is the first step to making that happen.”

Pushing past him, I grab my purse and slam the door behind me. Once I’m in the hall, the tears begin to fall, but I don’t stop and I don’t look back. I’m moving forward in my life, on my own, without Ian.

* * *

“It’ll only be for a few weeks. I promise,” I say as Angela hands me a key to her apartment.

“Whatever. You know you can stay here as long as you want. There’s plenty of room.”

“I know, but that’s not the plan. You have your own life, and I don’t want to be in the way. Plus, I’m ready to be on my own, I think. I feel…”

“Free,” she offers. “Alive. Available. Happy. Hopeful. Relieved.”

“Yeah, yeah. All those things and more. I didn’t realize how trapped I was until I started trying to explain it to him. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. It was like the words were coming out and I wasn’t even able to stop them. It was one of those out of body experiences. The ones where you’re watching yourself. Well, I watched as I ripped into him and told him everything. The truth should have hurt him, but I don’t think it did.”

“Good. I hope he heard everything you said.”

“I doubt it. He actually asked me if I was leaving him for Ryder,” I reply dismissively as I roll my eyes.

Angela busts out laughing. For a moment, I giggle along with her. When she bends over and grabs her stomach, I stop and stare. What the hell is so funny about that? He’s obviously very attractive. Is it that hard to believe that he would be attracted to me?

“Knock it off,” I say, nudging her with my elbow.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, of course he would think that. It couldn’t possibly be that you were unhappy with him. It couldn’t be the fact that he was an asshole. You have to be leaving him for someone else. He’s such a douche bag. When it’s good, it’s about him. When it’s bad, it’s about someone else. He’s always pointing his finger in a different direction.”

“Exactly. I tried to explain that to him, but he doesn’t get it. I don’t think he ever will.”

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore. When are you getting the rest of your stuff?”

“I don’t know. I’m not ready yet. Maybe next week? I’ll take a look at Ryder’s schedule and talk to him. I want to make sure Ian isn’t there when I go back, so it’ll have to be on my lunch hour. I don’t want to see him if I don’t have to.”

“Ryder will give you a day off I’m sure. Maybe you should bring him with you. You know, rub it in Ian’s face,” she jokes, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“There’s nothing to rub in his face,” I say defensively.

“Then why are you blushing every time we mention his name?” Her tone has gone from playful to serious. “It’s okay to have a crush on him, Em. He’s hot, there’s no denying it.”

“Yes, he’s easy on the eyes, but he’s also my boss. Plus, I just got out of this relationship and I’m not sure I’m ready for another one just yet,” I tease.

“Not yet, but maybe someday. You never know. Plus, everyone already assumes you two have a thing going on. Might as well give them something truthful to talk about for a change. The gossip around that place is at an all-time high right now.”

“Seriously!”

“What? Like you didn’t know that everyone was talking.”

“Um, no. Justine and Allison—”

“Those girls are not your friends, Em. Let me explain something to you. For starters, they’re best friends with Megan. She’s the biggest gossip there is. Let’s just say she’s a bored housewife. Those two though, they’re single. They feed off each other. They see things that aren’t there so they can talk about it over breakfast, lunch, dinner, and drinks. Rumors are like air to them. Without them, they stop living.

“Someday they’ll grow up, but it’s going to take a strong man to tame each of them. I’m not sure there will be many up for the challenge. Until then, we’re stuck listening to them spread lies about everyone.”

“So what do I do? I don’t want people thinking I’m sleeping with Ryder when I’m not.”

“Well, you could just sleep with him. That would make you two a lot less interesting,” Angela suggests, holding back her laughter.

Only my best friend would tell me to sleep with my boss so people would quit talking about how I’m sleeping with my boss.