Sugar sugar baby

[61] Taking a break

Back in LA, things felt different. The sun filtered through the windows of Vanessa's Beverly Hills mansion, casting long shadows across the living room where we sat. The air felt heavy between us, despite the usual luxury and warmth of her home. I had been thinking about this for days now, ever since that wild night on the beach in the Caribbean. Something had shifted in me, something I couldn't ignore anymore.

Vanessa was sitting across from me on one of the plush couches, looking as effortlessly beautiful as always. She wore a silk robe, her long dark hair cascading down her back in waves, and her eyes—those sharp, piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through me—were watching me closely, sensing that something was off.

She set her wine glass down on the coffee table, tilting her head slightly. "Alright, Tristan," she said, her voice calm but curious, "you've been quiet ever since we got back. What's going on?"

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to say what I needed to. This wasn't easy, and I knew it wouldn't be for her either. "Vanessa... we need to talk."

Her expression shifted, the warmth in her eyes flickering with concern. She sat up a little straighter, crossing one leg over the other. "That sounds ominous," she said, her voice careful. "What is it?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, already feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. "I've been thinking a lot about us. About everything that's happened over the last few months."

Vanessa nodded slowly, her brow furrowing. "Okay... and?"

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I think... I need a break."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and final. Vanessa blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise. For a moment, she didn't say anything, just stared at me, processing what I'd said.

"A break?" she repeated, her voice soft but incredulous. "Tristan, what are you talking about?"

I could see the confusion in her eyes, maybe even a little hurt, and it twisted something deep in my gut. But I had to do this. "Vanessa, this... relationship, this life you're living—it's intense. It's a lot. And I'm not sure if I'm ready for all of it."

Vanessa's expression darkened slightly, and she crossed her arms over her chest, clearly not liking where this conversation was going. "You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me. This isn't new."

I nodded, trying to keep my voice calm. "I thought I could handle it. But lately... after everything that's happened, I'm starting to realize that maybe I can't. The parties, the lifestyle, the way things went down in the Caribbean—it's overwhelming."

Vanessa sighed, rubbing her temples. "So what? You're just going to walk away? Is that what you're saying?"

I shook my head, feeling the weight of her words. "I'm not saying I'm walking away forever. I just... I need space. I need time to figure out what I really want, and if I can really handle this. Us."

Vanessa was quiet for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied me. I could see her trying to process it, trying to understand, but also fighting against it. "You're really serious about this," she said softly, her voice laced with disappointment.

I nodded, hating the fact that I was hurting her, but knowing that I had to be honest. "Yeah, I am. I care about you, Vanessa. I really do. But I need to figure out if this is the right thing for me."

She was silent again, her jaw tightening slightly as she looked away, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. "I see," she said after a moment, her voice cool but controlled. "And what happens if you decide you can't handle it? What then?"

I sighed, leaning forward, trying to make her understand. "I don't know. I'm not saying it's over. I just... I need time."

Vanessa stood up, pacing a little as she ran her fingers through her hair, clearly frustrated but trying to stay composed. "I didn't expect this," she admitted, her voice a little softer now. "I didn't think you'd get cold feet."

"It's not cold feet," I said quickly. "It's just... everything is moving so fast. I need to catch my breath."

She stopped pacing and turned to look at me, her eyes searching mine for something. "Do you still love me?"

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. I stood up, walking over to her, wanting to be as honest as I could. "Yes, I do. But love isn't the problem. It's everything else—the lifestyle, the pressure. It's a lot to handle, Vanessa."

She stared at me for a long moment, her face a mixture of hurt and understanding. Finally, she let out a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. "Okay," she said, her voice quiet. "If that's what you need, then I won't stop you."

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt wash over me. "Thank you."

Vanessa crossed her arms, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"If you decide you want out, don't just disappear. Talk to me. Give me the respect of an actual conversation."

I nodded again, my chest tight. "I promise."

Vanessa sighed, her posture softening as she stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand on my arm. "I don't want to lose you, Tristan. But if this is what you need, then I'll let you go. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

I smiled softly, feeling the weight of the moment settle between us. "You too."

She gave me a small, sad smile, then pulled me into a brief but warm hug. When she pulled away, her eyes were softer, more resigned. "I'll be here. Whenever you're ready."

I nodded, my heart heavy as I turned and made my way toward the door. Leaving wasn't easy, but I knew it was the right thing to do—for both of us.

Q: Did you expect this outcome?