The four of them moved to the stretching area after finishing their sets. The gym was alive with early‑morning energy — weights clanking, treadmills humming, music thumping low in the background.
Noah sat on the mat, rolling out his shoulders. Kevin, Domingo, and Quill exchanged a look — the kind that said it's time.
Kevin broke the silence first.
"So…" he said casually, leaning back on his palms, "what happened with Sarah?"
Noah didn't tense up. He didn't sigh. He didn't look embarrassed.
He just said it plainly. "We're done. She said no. I accepted it."
Domingo nodded slowly. "You good?"
"I'm better than I've been in years," Noah said honestly.
The boys all nodded — not surprised, not judgmental, just understanding.
Kevin let out a low whistle. "Man… I'm proud of you."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For handling it like a grown man," Kevin said. "No yelling. No begging. No drama. You set boundaries and stuck to them. That's rare."
Domingo chimed in. "Facts. Most people — men and women — stay in situations way past the expiration date because they're scared to start over."
Quill adjusted his glasses. "You didn't cling. You didn't chase. You respected her decision and made your own."
Noah shrugged. "It was time."
Kevin leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Look, bro… nobody should put up with someone else's bullshit. I don't care if it's a man or a woman. If someone is draining you, disrespecting your effort, or not matching your energy? You walk."
Noah nodded slowly.
Kevin continued, voice firm. "Relationships ain't supposed to be a charity. You're not supposed to carry a grown adult on your back while they refuse to grow."
Domingo snapped his fingers. "Exactly. A partnership means meeting each other at the same level — not halfway, not one person doing all the lifting."
He pointed at Noah. "You were building. She wasn't. That's not a relationship. That's a burden."
Quill added, "Success takes hard work, dedication, and determination. You had all three. She didn't. And that's not something you can fix for someone."
Noah exhaled, letting their words settle. "I tried for a long time."
"And that's why we respect you," Kevin said. "You gave her ten years. You didn't quit early. You didn't bail when things got tough. You stayed until it was clear she wasn't meeting you."
Domingo nodded. "And when she said no? You didn't crumble. You didn't beg. You didn't lose yourself."
Quill smiled softly. "You chose peace."
Noah felt something loosen in his chest — not sadness, not regret, but validation.
Kevin clapped him on the shoulder. "You did the right thing, man. And now you get to rebuild your life the way you want."
Domingo grinned. "And we're here for all of it."
Quill added, "Every step."
Noah looked at his boys — the consistency, the loyalty, the quiet strength — and felt a genuine smile spread across his face.
"Thanks," he said. "Really."
Kevin stood up, stretching his arms. "Alright, enough deep talk. Y'all ready for cardio?"
Domingo groaned. "Man, I just got here."
Quill laughed. "You say that every time."
Noah shook his head, still smiling. "Let's get it."
And just like that, the heaviness of the past few days faded into the background — replaced by brotherhood, routine, and the steady rhythm of moving forward.