She sat on top of the counter and looked around the empty living room while he stood next to her, hearing nothing but the awkward silence between them.
“Was this the place where we were supposed to move in together?” he asked.
Images of made up memories played inside her head. One by one, the furniture appeared around the small, cozy house she was planning to sell. “Yeah,” she whispered under her breath. “I planned my future with you, you know.” Her smile faded away from her face as she recalled their past.
He moved away and walked around the living room, his feet tapping anxiously. “Then why did you break up with me?” He turned back and their eyes locked together, the pain apparent to their faces as if the wound was still fresh.
“Because I got tired.” Her voice was cracking with repressed emotions. “It never worked between us because you didn’t lift a single finger for it to work… for us to work. You always left me hanging and I was always the one waiting for you to come back. I broke up with you and… and… and…”
He walked towards her and held her shoulders tight, shaking her whole body to make her finish the sentence. “And what?”
Tears started pouring down their faces.
“And what?” he begged.
“You… you didn’t fight for me,” she answered. “And now I’m getting married to someone else. It could have been you, but you didn’t fight for me. You didn’t fight for me at all.”