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I stand.

“Blaire.”

She looks at me. Her eyes are glassy now.

“I don’t want to be with you, Ross.”

The words stop me. For a second, I can’t move.

“I don’t believe that.”

“You need to.”

She turns. I catch her arm before she can take another step. She looks down at my hand.

“Please let me go.”

I keep my grip on her and stare in to her eyes. She looks at me one last time.

“I mean it.”

I finally release her arm from my grasp.

I want to say something.

Anything.

The words don’t come.

She walks away. I stay where I am and watch her leave the restaurant without looking back.

***

By the next afternoon, I’ve read the same paragraph in a financing brief three times and retained almost none of it.

I’m still working. Calls are getting answered, decisions are being made, and nothing at Kensington Holdings has stopped because my personal life went sideways over dinner. But my concentration keeps breaking at the edges, usually when I glance at my phone and see nothing from Blaire.

I called once last night after I got home. Twice this morning. She didn’t answer any of them. I’ve left it alone for several hours, but eventually I pick up the phone again.

Ross: We need to talk again.

I put the phone facedown and force myself back into the financing review. Her response comes nearly forty minutes later.

Blaire: I don’t want to talk, Ross. Please respect that.

I stare at the message. The restaurant had left room for disbelief. Anger could distort things. Fear could make people say things they didn’t entirely mean.

This feels different.

Clearer.

I set the phone down and try to return to work, but the words in front of me stop making sense after another page.

Her hotel is not far. I make the decision that I’m going to force her to have a decent conversation with me about this. I finish the call already scheduled on my calendar, sign what needs signing, and leave the office earlier than I normally would.

The hotel lobby is quiet when I walk in. I cross to the front desk and wait until the woman behind it looks up.

“Good afternoon,” she says. “How can I help you?”