When Matthew invited her to a party, she almost said no until he added that Jerome was out of town. She hated needing that reassurance, but she went. Nobody asked about Jerome. A girl named Sophie described her disastrous ceramics class, a guy named Derek talked backpacking, and around midnight a guy named Alex, who shared her hatred of statistics homework, asked for her number. She gave it to him and then felt weirdly guilty, even though she and Jerome had been over for months.
Alex texted about coffee the next morning, and she panicked. Valerie sat beside her, told her she owed him nothing, and helped her write a polite message saying she wasn’t in a place to date. He took it kindly, which left her relieved and irritated with herself at the same time.
In therapy she admitted that being single felt like proof she was broken. Then the therapist asked what she was actually sad about, and for once she had no answer. Was she mourning the relationship, or the future she’d imagined? It was the future. She was grieving the apartment they were going to get, the trips, the holidays with his family, the life she’d built in her head where it all worked out. That night she started a different list, this one with nothing to do with anyone else: a pottery class and a summer internship abroad, because Jerome never wanted to leave the state.
Hope still snuck back. When Valerie heard that Jerome and Brianna were having problems, her first reaction was a surge of hope that made her feel pathetic. She told Tiana she was still wishing he’d come back, even though she knew it was stupid. Tiana was blunt: if he did realize he’d made a mistake, taking him back would mean settling for someone who couldn’t choose her the first time. In therapy she finally saw that letting go felt like admitting she’d failed, and the therapist told her it wasn’t giving up but making space. She left exhausted, and somehow lighter.
The Email With Barcelona in the Subject Line
She submitted the Barcelona internship application at 11:59 p.m. on deadline night, hands shaking, after Valerie told her three times it was good enough. The honest reason she wanted it, to be somewhere Jerome had never been, didn’t go in the essay; professional development and cultural immersion did. Kellen had made her promise to apply, telling her sometimes you take the risk and figure out the details later. A video interview request came soon after, and she and Valerie screamed and jumped around until the neighbors banged on the ceiling.
Preparing reminded her she had skills and ambition that had nothing to do with being someone’s girlfriend. Around then she saw Brianna in the produce aisle of the grocery store. Her heart pounded, and Brianna looked up with something like regret and opened her mouth, but she nodded politely and kept walking. Her hands shook at the register, yet she felt powerful, because she’d chosen her peace over her curiosity.
Weeks later, studying for a literature final in the library, she opened an email with Barcelona in the subject line and read the first sentence three times before it registered: they were offering her the position. She cried happy tears, shoved her books into her bag, and called Tiana from outside in the cold. Her mother said she was proud of her for taking a risk, and it hit her that this was the first big decision in years that had nothing to do with a boyfriend. When Matthew later mentioned that Jerome had heard and seemed surprised she was leaving, she let herself enjoy it.
Life filled in around her. Kellen took her to a concert after she told him straight that she wasn’t looking for a relationship, and he said he still wanted to go as friends. At her door that night he kissed her goodnight. It was nice, not electric, and she was fine with that. Packing for winter break, she found an old photo of her and Jerome, felt a quiet melancholy instead of a gut punch, and tore it in half. In January she saw him across the quad, he waved, and she waved back without breaking stride.
A week before she left, Jerome walked into the coffee shop where she was finishing paperwork. They could have pretended not to see each other. Instead he came over and asked if he could sit. He said Barcelona sounded amazing and that he was happy for her, and she could tell he meant it, and she told him she hoped things were going well for him and meant that too. When he left, she realized there was no anger or bitterness left, only acceptance.
Her friends threw a going-away party, and Matthew handed her a Spanish phrase book wrapped in newspaper. On the plane, watching the airport shrink to toy size, she felt lighter than she had in a year. After her first week in Barcelona she stood on her tiny balcony at sunset and thought about how impossible happiness had seemed a few months earlier. She wasn’t fully healed, but she had chosen herself and her dreams over waiting for someone who couldn’t choose her.
Reflection: Jerome mostly failed at being honest with himself, and she paid for it with an hour alone at a restaurant table. What actually got her through was a string of small decisions: deleting an account, going back to game night, saying yes to therapy. Grief over a breakup often turns out to be grief for a future, and that takes as long as it takes.
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