Calvin's chair scraped against the floor as he moved, his eyes searching mine with a mix of disbelief and hurt. There was a quiet tension hanging between us, thick and suffocating.
He let out a long breath, then spoke, his voice low but sharp. "I really hoped for more."
I didn't flinch. Instead, I looked at him with steady eyes, trying to maintain my composure. "Well, we don't always get what we hope for, do we, Calvin?"
He winced, the words stinging as I intended. But I could not stop now.
"This isn't about you," I continued, my voice growing stronger. "It's not about what you want or what you need. It's about what I feel I need to do. About what I need."
