— Art Donaldson wasn’t someone you’d just be able to get over.

Art was really.. one of a kind, he was sweet and loyal, really loyal. You knew from the moment you got into a relationship with him that you’d end up hurting him, one way or another.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Art had started talking about your future together, getting married, having kids: He made it clear that he loved Lily, but he wanted at least another. And, for some self-sabotaging reason, you could feel yourself starting to feel trapped.

You loved Art, and it wasn’t because of him, he made it known he wasn’t trying to rush you, you’d been together for about three years. He knew that was too soon for any of those things, especially after he’d already had one failed marriage.

As much as it hurt, you broke things off with him: You knew you couldn’t continue to pursue the relationship when you weren’t ready (you were more than ready, you just couldn’t get those fears out of your head).

The look on Arts face that night was.. haunting, truly.

What hurt most was the thought of seeing him today, about a week after you ended things. You’d have to come and get your things, and just the thought of seeing the love of your life, hurt, because of you was gut wrenching.

When you’d made it to his apartment, the minute the door opened you could see how hurt he was. He’d silently beckoned you in, and you made sure to get a good look of the apartment since it’d be the last time ever. There’s pictures of lily on the walls and shelves, of all of you guys, the people closest to you in the world, who you were hurting because of your own fears.

“Some of your boxes are on the kitchen island.” Art speaks up, keeping his tone as indifferent as possible— though you can hear the tremble it holds.