Page 61 of After Everything
"Emma." He reached across the table, touched my hand gently. "I don't think this is about work."
My throat tightened. "Connor?—"
"It's okay." He squeezed my hand once, then let go. "I've kind of been waiting for this conversation, if I'm honest."
I looked up at him. He was smiling… actually smiling, warm and genuine and somehow relieved.
"You have?"
"Yeah." He leaned back in his chair. "I like you, Emma. A lot. You're smart and funny and you care about people in this way that's just... it's beautiful. And for a while, I thought maybe we could be something."
"But?"
"But you're not here. Not really." He gestured between us. "We have good conversations, good dinners, good... everything, onpaper. But there's no… God, I’m sorry for saying it like this, but no spark. No electricity. And I think…" He paused. "I think maybe you're still working through something."
My first instinct was to protest. To say I was fine, I was over my past, I was ready for this.
But Connor was right.
"I thought I was ready," I said quietly. "I wanted to be ready."
"I know. And for what it's worth, I think you've been trying really hard." He picked up his wine glass, swirled it. "But Emma, you can't force chemistry. And you can't be with someone just because they're good on paper."
"You're not just good on paper."
"I know. But I'm also not the guy who makes your heart race." He took a sip of wine. "And that's okay. Better to figure it out now than waste both our time pretending."
I felt my eyes sting. Not because I was heartbroken… I wasn't. But because he was being so kind about it, so mature, when I'd been the one checking out of this relationship without fully realizing it.
"I'm sorry," I said. "You deserve someone who's all in."
"So do you." He smiled again. "And Emma? I don't think it's about being ready or not ready. I think that… I think that maybe you're just waiting for the right person."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Connor smiled. "Come on. Let's finish dinner like adults and part as friends. Because I do like you, even if this isn't going anywhere."
"I like you too."
"Good." He grinned. "Then you can help me workshop my dating profile when I inevitably redownload all the apps next week."
Despite everything, I laughed.
Two weeks later,I was fine.
Better than fine, actually. Being alone felt right in a way the relationshipwith Connor never quite had. He'd been kind, thoughtful, exactly the type of person I should want. But there'd been this constant low-level awareness that I wasn't being fair to him, that he deserved someone all-in, and I was only ever halfway there. No more second-guessing. No more trying to feel things I didn't feel.
Just me, my work, my life.
It was enough.
Connor had texted a few days after our dinner.
Hope you're doing well. Meant what I said about being friends.
I'd texted back.
You too. And I'm holding you to the dating profile workshop.
