Page 22 of Breaking News

It was for him.

For the man sitting in front of me, looking utterly wrecked. For the boy who had spent decades loving the same girl, maybe without even realizing it. Maybe fighting it. Because for whatever reason, she would not—or could not—reciprocate.

There wasn’t a cell in my body that hated him for this.

“It’s okay,” I said, and I meant it. I blinked the tears away. “I mean, I think we’re done here. Obviously.” I let out a chuckle that probably sounded a little too casual. He lifted one eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeah…”

I picked up my fork. “Can we just… eat?”

He looked like he’d rather melt through his chair and disappear altogether. “Sure.” But he didn’t reach for his utensils or scoot his chair closer to the table. He watched me in silence as I cut into one of my pierogies, which was practically room temperature now. After a minute, I stood up to pour us both a glass of iced sweet tea, forgetting how he’d once told me Iput an “ungodly” amount of sugar in it. He took a sip anyway, cautiously staring at me over the brim of his glass.

“What do we do now?” he asked, holding the glass between both hands on the table.

“Just go back to the way things were, I guess,” I said, swallowing a bite of asparagus. “I hope it won’t make things awkward on Friday nights. Having exes within the friend group, y’know.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Owen seems to handle it okay.”

I looked up in curiosity. “Wait, what?”

“He and…. actually, never mind. It’s his secret, not mine. I assumed you knew,” he said, raising his glass to his lips again.

“Come on! You can’t just drop some slutty Owen Gardner lore without giving me the full story,” I joked.

Xander choked on his tea, spitting some back into his glass. “Sorry, I can’t,” he said, wiping his mouth. We both laughed, and in that moment, I knew we were going to be okay. There was no animosity between us.

This might have been the most mature break-up of my life.

We finished our lukewarm meal, talking about his novel, the cow catastrophe on Persimmon Road, and the upcoming trip to New York. On the porch, we exchanged a friendly goodbye hug that felt like a reset.

We were back to the old us. Friends. Colleagues who just happened to know what the other one looked like naked.

He picked his helmet up from the concrete ledge. Holding it by his side, he turned to me and asked, “What are you going to tell people? I don’t want anyone to know I…”

I didn’t have to say it. “We just want different things.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him. With a simple nod, he turned and left. The second his motorcycle pulled away from my curb, I went back into the house and scrambled for my phone to text Meghan.

Jill:So… I just ended things with Xander.

Meghan:Oh my God. Are you ok?

Jill:I’m fine. Truly. Least messy break-up of my life. I think he and I are going to be able to remain friends after this.

Meghan:Wow.

Meghan:I’m… happy for you? I think?

Jill:Thanks

Jill:By the way, have you ever hooked up with Owen Gardner without telling me?

Meghan:Um, no? Not for a lack of trying.

Jill:Then he’s either been with Kendall or Abigail.

Meghan:How has this little chaotic mess of a friend group not self-imploded already?

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