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"Hey honey," the man on the receiver answered as soon as he picked up the phone

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"Hey honey," the man on the receiver answered as soon as he picked up the phone. Chris sighed, staring at the duvet below her.

He looked as he always did; gorgeous. She couldn't help the rush of nostalgia that filled her every time they spoke. The feeling of falling in love for the first time, the feeling of touching his hand and hearing him say he loved her. It was enough to get her heart beating for him again, her heart clinging on to all the good.

But it was no longer the same. The night before was spent over analysing everything about their relationship, and she had come to the conclusion that perhaps the number of times he had made her feel guilty for taking up space, for asking for the tiniest bit of attention every once in a while did not outweigh the good. They did not make it all worth it.

Loving him was a moment of weakness, what was she even holding on to?

"Hey, uhm, are you busy?" Chris sucked in a deep breath before raising her gaze to him, watching as he set the phone down after rushing around for a bit.

"No, sorry, I just had to print some documents for a meeting tomorrow," flopping down on the seat, he huffed, "I'm all yours now."

Chris sent him a smile before returning to fidgeting with her thumbs.

"You alright?" his voice spoke again and she decided it was best to just rip the bandaid off.

"I want to break up," she blurted, somehow finding the courage to observe his reaction.

But she wished she hadn't looked.

His eyes were void of emotion as he just stared back at her.

"What?"

"I just don't think we're meant for each other," she told him, "I genuinely want the best for you, but I don't think I can give that to you anymore, I'm sorry."

"Chris, you can't be serious-"

Her heart started to race. Was she making the right decision? Sure, he didn't always make her feel good but all couples had their ups and downs, right?

However, when she looked back at him it was as if she'd flipped a switch, a rush of memories seemed to pull at her one by one.

Memories of words he'd say, actions he'd do as he built iron poles around her.

He'd made their love a prison. A prison with bars she could walk between.

She remembered the times he'd chipped her down to a being much smaller than herself, but he always was forgiven. He pushed her to her limit time and time again and yet she was swayed by the bare minimum.

"This is already hard enough for me," she sighed, "Please understand. I didn't want to have to do this over the phone but I don't see either of us visiting each other any time soon."

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