Lena stood up because sitting made her feel as though the conversation would go on forever.
Daniel stood too.
“Don't follow me,” she said.
He stayed beside the table.
She went into the small room. The new lamp stood on the desk. The open sketchbook still showed his half-finished face at breakfast, held down by two screws she hadn't bothered to move.
She looked at it until the page blurred.
He had wanted that drawing out. He had meant it. She could not dismiss the last weeks as a trick performed without any feeling. That made the hurt larger, not smaller.
She went back to the kitchen.
“The job,” she said. “The contract.”
“I wanted to stay.”
“After inviting him to take me away.”
“I didn't know what it would feel like when he was here.”
“You were jealous.”
“Yes.”
“So you tried to pay him to go.”
“Yes.”
“And when I kissed him?”
His mouth tightened. “That hurt.”
“I believe you.”
“You asked me to marry you next week.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I thought I was losing you.”
“So you were going to marry me?”
“I wanted to get past that morning. Get you back.” He swallowed. “I said it before I thought about having to do it.”
Lena gripped the counter. “You still didn't want the wedding.”
“No.”
“Then what was going to happen on Saturday? You told me we'd be coming home from the hotel.”
“I kept waiting for you to call it off. When you didn't, I put it off another day.” He rubbed his forehead. “Yesterday I just wanted to get through supper without you asking why there wasn't a room.”
She looked at him until he looked back.
“It doesn't change what you were doing.”
“I know.”
She shook her head. “Stop giving me the answer after I say it.”
He looked away. She put both hands flat on the counter because they were trembling.
“I thought you forgave me because you wanted to keep us,” she said.
“I did.”
“You wanted me to make the choice you wouldn't make.”
“I wanted it to stop.”
“The waiting?”
“All of it. Not you. Not how I feel about you.”
“But the marriage.”
He nodded.
She let that be plain. He loved her. He did not want to marry her. She had been trying to turn one into the other by making better days, fewer demands, a different room. He had let her.
“You could have said no,” she said.
“I was scared.”
“So was I.”
He put his hand against his mouth. She had seen that gesture before, when something went wrong at work and he was deciding how to fix it. There was no thing he could buy or mend here.
“I pushed,” she said. “When you tried to talk about postponing. I cried. I tried to make it smaller so you wouldn't have a reason.”
“Lena—”
“I'm not giving you an excuse. I know what I did.”
He nodded.
“And I kissed Nate. That was mine. You didn't make me do that.”
“No.”
She looked toward the bedroom. Her own side of the bed was unmade because she had got up early for work. His pillow was straight. The whole flat contained little differences they'd lived around happily for years.
She wanted one of them to say something that would put her back inside that life.
Daniel came a step closer.
“I don't want to lose you.”
She closed her eyes.
“Then you should have let me hear the truth before you asked everybody else to help you.”
“I can—”
“No.”
She opened her eyes. “Don't promise a wedding now because I'm going to stop it.”
He stood still.
Lena took off the ring. It caught at her knuckle, and for a terrible second she thought she would have to struggle with it while he watched. Then it came free.
She put it on the table.
“We're not getting married.”
Daniel looked at the small circle of metal. She could see he wanted to touch it and didn't know whether that would make things worse.
“I know,” he said quietly.
She almost hated him for the relief she could not tell apart from grief. He was allowed both. She did not have to stay here watching him feel them.
She picked up her phone.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To tell Jo before she does another thing for this wedding.”
“Do you want me to come?”
“No.”
He nodded.
She took her jacket. At the door he said her name. She looked back because three years had taught her to answer when he called.
“I'm sorry.”
“I know you are.”
She left before sorrow could become a reason to return.
Jo was serving a customer when Lena entered the café. Her sister saw her and finished the payment without rushing. Then she took Lena into the kitchen and shut the door.
“It's off,” Lena said.
Jo put a hand on the counter.
“Have you decided?”
“Yes.”
“Not for tonight. Off?”
“Yes.”
Her sister nodded once, as if taking an order she had to get exactly right.
Lena tried to tell the story. Daniel wanted out, brought Nate back, hoped she would choose him. The words were so ugly out loud she stopped halfway through.
Jo stepped toward her. Lena shook her head, then stepped toward Jo herself.
The hug hurt. She had been holding her body upright so hard that letting it soften made everything ache.
“I wanted it,” she said against her sister's shoulder.
“I know.”
“I still wanted it this morning.”
“I know, Len.”
For a few minutes she cried without having to sound sensible.
Then Jo gave her a clean towel for her face, because all the tissues were in the customer's bathroom, and said they would tell Bea first.
Lena nodded.
It was not the ending she'd wanted. She had chosen it anyway.