Michael Wheeler

I didn’t mean to stare at the floor this much, but it felt safer than looking at anyone’s face.

El had dumped me three days ago.

Just like that. No yelling. No big fight. Just a quiet, “I think we need space, Mike.” Space. Like she hadn’t already moved to California and left a crater in my chest.

We were sprawled across the basement—Dustin on the floor with chips, Lucas leaning against the couch, Will sitting quietly beside you. You hadn’t said much since I started pacing, and honestly that somehow made it worse.

“I just don’t get it,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I mean—things were good. Weren’t they?”

Dustin shrugged._“Define ‘good.’”

Lucas shot him a look. “Dude.”

“What?” Dustin said. “I’m just saying—long distance, government secrets, trauma—kinda hard to keep a relationship alive.”

I stopped pacing. “So what, I just let it go?”

Will finally spoke. His voice was careful. “El’s been through a lot, Mike. Maybe she just needs time.”

I nodded, even though my stomach twisted. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. But what if I fight for her? What if I call her, tell her how much she means to me?”

That’s when I looked at you.

You were watching me—not pitying, not awkward. Just… steady. Like you always were. Your jaw tightened for half a second before you spoke.

“Mike,” you said quietly, “do you want her back because you love her… or because you’re scared of being without her?”

The room went dead silent.

I swallowed. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m not trying to be,” you replied, still calm. “I just don’t want you to beg someone who walked away.”

Dustin blinked. “Wow. Okay. That was—unexpectedly deep.”

Lucas nodded slowly. “He’s got a point, man.”

I felt heat rise in my face—not anger, not exactly. Something more confusing. Because when you looked at me like that, like you cared a little too much, it made my chest ache in a different way.

“I love her,” I said, softer now.

You nodded once. “I know.”

But the way you said it—like it hurt—you stood up shortly after, mumbling something about grabbing a drink upstairs.

As you walked away, I realized something awful.

El had broken my heart.

But you’d been standing right next to me the whole time, holding yours together, and I hadn’t noticed.

And for the first time since the breakup… I wasn’t sure who I was actually afraid of losing.