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I'm not sure why I'm not taking the test before I talk to Thomas. I guess imagining if I had a girlfriend and she walked up to me, telling me she's pregnant, would be weird. I'd want to be there during the test, not be a part of it only after.

I've also damaged the insides of my cheeks by the amount of times I've bitten them. Then my nails, and ugh, sleeping with all the thoughts and everything that's so complicated. My period, eating, the number, Thomas's behavior, Janson, Gally...

I'll finish all the problems off. Starting with asking Thomas if he has time to meet up.

Just when I grab my phone, there's a ping. Exactly from who I wanted to text.

Thomas <33

Hey
Are you free today?
Tuesday

I think I'm aware it's Tuesday :)
But yeah, I'm free

Great.
2 PM, my house?

Sure. I need to tell you something anyways

No going back now.

Same.
See you at two.

Byee!

I'm already freaking out. Because if the test is negative, it does mean I really messed myself up. Also not good. But better than a kid. I can't handle that right now. Nope.

✵

"Hi," I murmur, wrapping both of my arms around him. "Good to see you."

He pats my back. "Likewise."

Likewise? Are we at a formal meeting or something?

Whatever. Smiling, I let go of him. My eyes move over his face. The lovely brown eyes, parted lips, curved nose, thicker eyebrows, messy hair. This is the boy I love. Who would never judge me, and who I know will be there.

Really poetic, but it's true.

"We'll go upstairs," he decides. "Want a drink?"

"No, thank you." I follow him, the quick steps causing me to be out of breath once we've arrived in his room, so I sit down on his bed.

The sheets are dark blue, just as the walls. Thomas got more of the furniture in blue and white, actually. It's nice.

He doesn't sit down. He just wanders around, head down, fidgeting with his fingers and murmuring things.

"Thomas?" I cock my head to the side. "Everything alright?"

Thomas stops whatever he was doing before. He looks at me, sighs, and then shakes his head. "I've got something to tell you, but you've also got something to tell me. You go first."

My nerves are killing me. "No, you, please."

"But I'm not sure how to tell you." He rubs his forehead. "It's.. difficult."

"How about you just sit down first?" I suggest, patting on the place beside me.

Thomas obeys. Then, "Alright. Uhh—"

I lie my hands on top of his to stop him from fidgeting this much. Give him a reassuring nod. "Take your time."

He nods, biting his lip.

"Is it about hockey? Janson?"

He shakes his head. "No— I'm just... I don't know."

I wait and wait and wait, patient for him to continue. Once he seems ready, he pulls his hands away and runs them through his hair.

"Alright." He sighs. His head is pointed to his hands, so I can't see his face. His voice is hard to read.

I take a breath in. Maybe it's really big news or something bad..?

"I've been thinking lately," he starts, slowly speaking. "Quite a lot. And I figured..."

I straighten my back, ready.

"...that maybe it's better if we..." he pauses. Swallows. "If we... you know, take distance for a while."

Oh.

Distance? What kind of distance?

I'm not sure what to feel or say with this less information. "Distance? How?"

"As in..." There's another pause. "As in breaking up."

I think those words each sent a knife straight into my heart, because I can feel a sharp pain there. The tone of his voice must've sent a knife in my stomach too, killing all the butterflies and renewing the nerves.

The knives twist, causing my face to do the same, and I feel that it's blocking air from my windpipe. I can't breathe.

He must be joking. Where's the camera? Is Minho under the bed?

"Oh," I say it out loud now. I manage to keep my voice steady, but I feel like I'm about to burst already. "Why, if I may ask?"

When he doesn't reply, I understand that this is all I'm going to get. As in breaking up. Ha. Isn't this just awesome?

I take some ragged breaths. "So you really wanna blow things off?"

"Yes."

Crack, a piece of my heart. I rub my eyelids, attempting to get the water in them away, and I look at him. But he's not even making eye contact right now.

"Please reply," I then say. Hoarse, broken voice. "Tell me why. Did I do something wrong? Or is it just all too much, or maybe you want more space...?"

"I just don't love you anymore. I can't."

From anything he could've said, this is the worst thing.

I want to scream. Kick, yell, cry, sob, take a million laxatives until I feel better, throw up, and then cry more.

"You just don't love me anymore," I repeat. "So one day, you looked at me and were like, 'Oh, no. I no longer love her'."

My voice cracks at every word and they all turn into little sobs.

Did I mean as much to him as he did to me? Have I overestimated anything?

"When?" I sniff, but nothing helps. "When did you realize that?"

"Like a week ago."

So the whole week at work, he has pretended to still be in love with me.

Awesome.

"Did I change that much?" I ask.

"No," he says.

I'm losing it. I feel selfish asking all these questions about myself but I need to know.

"No?" I blink. "Then what changed? Or have you never loved me at all, since nothing changed?"

"I have loved you. But no longer do," he says. "Let's just move on— what did you want to tell me?"

He's cutting it off as if he didn't just break up with me. Ruined a seven month relationship.

"Nothing," I say. I get up from the bed. "Except for the fact you somehow managed to make a face to face breakup worse than one through a bloody text."

He makes it sound like a simple job. He's not even dropping a tear or showing emotions. He's shortly telling me he just doesn't love me anymore. He won't even explain what bloody changed and why he no longer loves me.

I almost run home, drop my bag in the hallway with tears steaming and sobs escaping, and then decide to just go to my room and cry for the rest of the day and night.

"Rose?"

But I freeze halfway there. My head turns to Newt, who sits on the couch with a worried face, and when he gets up to hug me, I really lose it.

I wet his shirt with so many tears that it makes me wonder if I have ever cried this much before. I'm hiccuping and sobbing and can barely speak when Newt asks me what's going on.

"He—" A hiccup, followed by a sob. "He broke up with me." And the 'me' sounds weird, because there I break into a long cry. "He said he doesn't love me anymore, Newt," I cry out.

Newt doesn't move. He keeps hugging me for a good minute. "Thomas broke up with you," it's not even a question, "because he doesn't love you anymore."

I give a vague nod.

"That bloody piece of shit!" He curses, throwing a random object through the room. "Weak, idiotic, thing! You're struggling and his poor innocent butt can't take it, so he breaks up with you?! My sister!"

Now who, besides Newt, will make sure I eat but will do it in a kind way? Who's gonna pick me up from ballet and work? Who am I gonna spend breaks at work with?

Newt calms down after a few seconds. "Here, I'll make some tea and we'll put a movie on, alright?"

I still can't stop crying as he gets everything ready. The pillow is covering all my cries and sobs, and the material sucks all the tears up.

Newt starts rubbing my back, then hands me my tea. But my hands are so shaky that I immediately spill some of it on my bare skin. Funny thing, I barely feel the pain. It's nothing worse than the pain I already have.

"Shh." Newt gives up on the tea and movie, so takes me in his arms and again, rocks us in multiple ways like that. "Let it all out, but try to keep breathing."

I wish I could laugh, but I can't. I can laugh through many kinds of tears, but not these.

"Cry and fall asleep, so we can talk tomorrow," he whispers. A few kisses get placed on my head. "Good night. I love you."

"I love you," I manage with my hoarse voice. Then, I start crying until I'm dry and until my throat hurts.

Guess I have to buy and take that test alone after all.