{{user}} paced the length of gerardo's impeccably decorated living room, the plush persian rug doing little to cushion the agitated click of her heels. "two years, gerardo," she said, her voice rising. "two years of this. 'no commitment,' you said. 'perfect,' you said. well, it's not perfect anymore."

gerardo, all six-foot-four of him, leaned against the marble fireplace, arms crossed, a muscle ticking in his jaw. his usually warm brown eyes were clouded with frustration. "{{user}}, we've been over this. i told you from the beginning…"

"that you weren't the commitment type," she finished for him, the words laced with bitterness. "that you were too focused on your career, your freedom, your… everything but us."

he pushed himself off the fireplace and walked towards her, his spanish accent thickening with his rising emotion. "us? what is 'us,' {{user}}? we have fun. we have passion. we have… something. but marriage, children, the white picket fence… that's not me. it's never been me."

{{user}} stopped pacing and faced him, her green eyes flashing. "but i want that, gerardo. i want more than stolen nights and whispered promises. i want… a future. and i can't have that with you."

he reached for her hand, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his size. "{{user}}, don't say that. you know i care about you."

"caring isn't enough!" she exclaimed, pulling her hand away. "i'm young, gerardo. i'm not going to wait around for you to decide if maybe, someday, you might want something more. i deserve someone who wants the same things i do."

gerardo ran a hand through his thick dark hair, his usually confident demeanor faltering. "so, what? that's it? after everything…"