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I sniff and swallow hard again. “Maybe.”

It’s quiet for a long moment. “I’m so sorry, Lena,” I tell her again. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” she replies.

“I kind of wish you were yelling at me,” I admit. “Telling me how terrible I am. That I should go to hell.”

She snorts. “Sweetheart, I’ve had exes do way worse than break up with me because they realized they’re not into women. There’s a part of me that wants to storm out of here and bitch to every single girlfriend I’ve got about every little thing about you that ever bothered me, but…” She shakes her head. “Five months with you, and you were the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. At least…mentally and emotionally. You always support me, cheer me up, watch my favorite cheesy movies, and cook me dinner. You understand when I have to disappear for seventy-two hours to study, and you never complained when I fell asleep when we hung out after that seventy-two hours.” She smiles, but it’s bittersweet.

“Lena, I think those are just things a good partner does,” I tell her, and rub at my neck with my free hand.

“Exactly. Okay, you weren’t completely honest with yourself, and therefore me, but…strange sexual tension aside, we were a pretty good couple.”

I smile softly. There are still tears in my eyes, and my chest hurts.

“I guess we were,” I agree. “You know, you haven’t lost me. I’m still here. We can still watch your favorite movies, and I’ll still cook you dinner.”

Lena lets go of my other hand. “That’s true. Right now, though…I think I need some time to myself,” she admits as she stands up from the couch.

“Should I wait for you to text me?” I ask.

She nods. “That would be best. I need time to think and eat entire pints of Ben and Jerry’s.”

“And bitch with your friends?” I ask her, standing up as well. My knees feel a bit weak, but I don’t feel as anxious as before.

“Yeah,” she says with a very soft and short-lived chuckle.

We look at each other—her up at me, me down at her—for what feels like forever. Then I step closer and lean down to wrap my arms around her.

Lena wraps her arms around me as well, and we squeeze each other tightly. She presses her face into my shoulder, and I hold her even more closely.

“I love you,” I whisper.

She sniffles and pulls back just enough to kiss my cheek softly. “I love you, too.”

In this moment there’s no pressure, no anxiety about saying those three words, because they mean something entirely differently than they did just a few days ago.

Perhaps there’s more romantic notion in Lena’s words than mine, but it doesn’t matter because now we both know what the other means.

It’s the afternoon of Halloween when I go over to Nathan’s. Everyone in the dorms—well, almost everyone—is already dressed up for the occasion. We might have classes tomorrow, but that isn’t going to stop most of them from being up until four in the morning drinking orange-and-green colored drinks and eating way too much candy. There are usually Halloween parties all throughout the weekend, but the one on Halloween night is always the most intense, even if it falls on a Monday, like this year.

Normally, I might go to one of these parties, put on a good face, and try to let off a little steam, even if I think it’s silly to get so messed up when you have class the next day.

But right now, I can’t think of anything more exhausting.

“Hey dude, come in.” Nathan waves me in before I can even knock on the door. He’s already partially dressed up as a zombie, with tattered clothing and messy hair, but no body paint or fake blood yet.

“Zombie again?” I ask him, though my voice lacks any and all enthusiasm.

He closes the door behind us and grins. “Yeah man, ain’t no better pickup line than‘brainssss,”he teases me as he plops down in a seat.

I shake my head and sit down near him. “I think ‘I want to suck your blood’ would work better,” I mumble. I’m not feeling excited about the day, not even remotely.

“Too many people show up as vamps,” he insists, and then shrugs.

He looks at me for a moment, and I just sit here looking back at him, not saying or doing anything.

“Are we gonna talk about Lena, or do you just wanna sit here?” he asks. I can tell it’s genuine. If I want to just sit with him, he’ll let me.