"I can't take you with me, Sereia."
Slowly, I put the cap of my lipgloss back on the tube and turned to look at him. We were in my condo, just a few floors above his. I was the one who had his unit fixed up months ago so he could be closer to me.
"Come again?" I said, tilting my head slightly.
He was standing by the side of the sofa, arms crossed, looking like he wasn't in the mood.
"I'm leaving next week… for Italy," he said, getting straight to the point.
I already knew that. We'd been planning it together. I even connected his manager to a famous agency I knew internationally.
"I know, and I told you I can go with you. I'll book a place for us near your castings. I don't even have to worry about my work there because I'm sure a lot of top agencies will take me in."
He shook his head. "You don't get it."
My forehead creased, not understanding what he meant. I stood up, crossed my arms, and faced him.
"Then explain it to me, Oliver."
He ran a hand across his face. He looked so bothered by something.
"I can't take you with me…"
"Because?"
He didn't answer right away.
"Because what, Oliver?" I asked angrily.
"Because I'm done!"
It felt like my world stopped at his words. Did I hear that right?
"What?"
He looked away.
"I'm done, Eya… I'm done with us."
His words echoed inside me like an insult.
"Are you serious? What are you even saying, Oliver? What do you mean you're done?"
"I want to focus on my career. Modeling is all I have right now. I don't want any distractions."
My lips parted in disbelief. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This should be a joke.
I stared at him for a full five seconds, waiting for him to laugh and say he was just joking.
"You don't want to be distracted? What are you trying to say? That I'm your distraction? That I'm the obstacle in your career?"
"Sereia—"
"I made you, Oliver!" I screamed. "Do you honestly think people would even know your name if you weren't with me?! I lifted your name!"
"I know," he said, almost sounding guilty. "But that's exactly why I need to stand on my own."
"Oh, so now you're suddenly acting independent? After months of using my name and face to get into rooms you didn't even belong in?!"
He flinched at my words. I knew I was throwing harsh things at him, but I couldn't control myself anymore. I am so mad right now.
"I still care about you, Eya. It's just that… I need space. I need to grow. This relationship, it's getting too much."
"So, that's it? Just like that, you're leaving me? After everything? After all the times you said you loved me?"
He didn't answer. He just stared at the floor.
I let out a sarcastic laugh to stop the tears that were about to fall.
"Wow. You're amazing, Oliver. In order for you to build your career internationally, you have to fucking destroy me."
"I didn't mean it like that—"
"Then what do you mean, huh?!" I shouted, full of rage.
He turned his back, bowed his head, and fell silent for a moment.
"You're… too much for me."
Too much.
"So what do you want, huh? For me to be less for you? For us to be on the same level just so you won't leave me? Just so you can handle me? If that's what you want, then damn, you're not just a liar—you're insecure too!"
He stepped closer to me. He tried to reach for my hand, but I didn't let him.
"I don't want us fighting—"
"Well, too bad, because I do."
I picked up the glass of water beside me and threw it hard against the wall. The glass shattered, but he didn't even flinch.
"Leave," I said coldly.
I knew I might say more hurtful words to him if he stayed any longer.
He took his luggage, which I had only just noticed had been ready for a while. He really was set on this.
He turned to look at me one last time. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but he didn't.
"Good luck. I hope you find the career you want… and yourself. I hope leaving me is worth it," I said.
"I'm sorry, S-Sereia…" he whispered.
I turned my back on him to discreetly wipe my tears.
"I'm breaking up with you…" I let out a sigh to free something heavy in my chest. "Just in case that's all you were waiting for before you left."
I didn't even look at him. I didn't want to see his face while I said those words. I didn't want to know if he was sad or completely unfazed. Because deep down, I already knew the answer.
I just stared at the floor, my arms limp at my sides, while my tears kept falling. I could feel how my heart was slowly breaking.
I heard his footsteps gradually fading away. He's really leaving. He chose himself. He chose his dreams over me.
I clenched my fists. I shut my eyes tight, just to hold myself together for one more second. But then—
"I'll come back to you one day. Just wait for me, Eya."
I froze.
I felt like something tightened in my chest. I slowly turned my head toward the door, but he was already gone.
He was gone.
And all I had left was that line.
"I'll come back to you one day."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run after him and tell him that I wouldn't cling to that promise; that I'm not someone he can come back to when he's finally okay, nor a hotel he can check into whenever he wants to.
But I had no strength left. I stood in the middle of my condo's living room—still in my robe, my makeup smudged, and hair undone.
And for the first time in my life, I felt what it was like to be the one left behind by someone I thought would stay.
"I won't wait for you, Oliver…" I whispered bitterly, even though he couldn't hear it anymore.