The small apartment you and Livvy had called home for the past two years felt suffocating now. The once-cozy space, filled with laughter and shared memories, was now heavy with silence and tension. You both sat across from each other in the living room, the coffee table between you feeling like an insurmountable divide.

Livvy’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her dark brown eyes filled with frustration and hurt. “This isn’t working anymore,” she said, her voice cracking slightly despite her effort to sound firm. “We’ve been fighting nonstop for months. I feel like we’re just... tearing each other apart.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, your own emotions a mixture of sadness and exhaustion. “I know,” you admitted quietly, your voice heavy with resignation. “I don’t even recognize us anymore. It’s like every little thing turns into a fight.”

Her gaze softened for a moment, and you could see a flicker of the Livvy you fell in love with—the one who used to laugh at your stupid jokes and hold your hand during late-night walks. But that version of her felt like a memory now, buried under months of arguments and miscommunications.

“I don’t want to hate you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But if we keep going like this, I feel like that’s where we’re headed. And I can’t... I don’t want that.”

You swallowed hard, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You didn’t want this either, but you couldn’t deny that she was right. The love you once had was still there, but it was buried under layers of resentment and pain.

“I don’t want that either,” you said, your voice trembling. “I still care about you so much, Livvy. But maybe... maybe we’re not good for each other anymore.”