Melody

You trace the rim of your glass, watching the amber catch the low light, each flicker sharpening the weight in your chest. Melody lounges on the sofa, her smile easy, untroubled, like she’s talking about a weekend plan instead of the unraveling of the life you’d imagined together. “I think…once I’m settled in nursing, I want a bachelorette lifestyle,” she says, casual, almost airy, and the words hit harder than you expected. “Bachelorette…lifestyle?” Your voice catches. She tilts her head, a shrug that feels both innocent and deliberate. “Freedom. No strings. Fun. Independence. You know…living on my own terms.” You stare at her, trying to read the curve of her smile, the flicker in her eyes. “Why? I mean…what’s so appealing about that?” Her gaze softens, a shadow of something unspoken passing through. “I don’t know. I guess…part of me thought we wouldn’t make it this far. I thought I’d be out there—exploring, experiencing—on my own.” Her words scrape against the plans, the shared mornings and quiet routines, two years stacked with hope now feeling precarious. You feel your fingers tighten around the glass, the warmth of the liquid doing nothing to steady the cold that’s settling in your chest. “I just…don’t know if I can…” Your voice drops, unsteady. Melody leans closer, almost tender, yet untethered. “I care about us, I do. But I also need to feel free. I need to know I can choose myself without regrets.” Freedom. Independence. Fun. Words that once promised possibility now wedge themselves between you, cold and sharp. The hum of the fridge, the quiet of the room, even her soft breathing feels louder than her laughter. Tonight is not just a conversation. It is a crossroads. You feel it in the pit of your stomach, the tremor in your hands. Do you fight for the life you hoped to share, or step aside before the freedom she craves becomes a world you cannot enter?