Heart.
Stomach.
Adrenaline.
Five years does not disappear because a phone number gets blocked.
She looked awful.
Hair tied back badly.
No makeup except old mascara beneath her eyes.
Gray hoodie.
Hands shoved into the sleeves.
She looked exactly like the Sarah I had comforted through hard days.
That made it worse.
I pressed TALK.
“Yes?”
Sarah’s face lifted toward the camera.
“Liam?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God.”
She started crying immediately.
“Can I come up?”
“No.”
Her expression collapsed.
“Please.”
“No.”
“I just need five minutes.”
“We can talk from there.”
She looked around the lobby.
“Through an intercom?”
“Yes.”
“Liam, please.”
I stayed silent.
“I made a mistake.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
“I really made a mistake.”
“Mark wasn’t…”
She swallowed.
“He wasn’t what I thought.”
I waited.
“He ghosted me.”
“I heard.”
Her face changed.
“From who?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“He used me.”
I said nothing.
“He told everybody at work there was never anything between us.”
Her voice cracked.
“He made me look crazy.”
That phrasing caught me.
He made me look crazy.
Not:
I hurt you.
Sarah continued.
“I lost everything.”
“No.”
She stared.
“You didn’t lose everything.”
“I lost you.”
“You chose to.”
“I chose wrong.”
“That’s still choosing.”
She started crying harder.
“I was confused.”
“I know.”
“I thought there was something missing between us.”
“Apparently there was.”
“No.”
Sarah pressed closer to the camera.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“There wasn’t.”
“It was me.”
“I was restless.”
“I confused attention with connection.”
That was more self-awareness than I expected.
Still, awareness arrived after consequences.
She continued.
“You were safe.”
My jaw tightened.
“And I started treating safe like boring.”
Sarah wiped her face.
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time, the apology sounded connected to behavior.
“I took you for granted.”
“I made you feel like being dependable meant you didn’t excite me anymore.”
“I let Mark get inside my head.”
“I talked to him about our relationship.”
“I crossed lines.”
“I know that now.”
I felt something inside me move.
Not reconciliation.
Grief.
Because this was the conversation we should have had before she ended us.
“Okay.”
Sarah almost laughed through tears.
“You keep saying that.”
“What else do you want?”
“Let me come upstairs.”
“No.”
Her face tightened.
“Why?”
“Because we’re not rebuilding anything.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because I’m not interested.”
She stared.
The words looked almost physically painful.