Chapter Text
You didn't know when exactly Tom's behavior toward you had changed because it was a slow and gradual process. No matter how hard you tried to think of what event may have prompted this, your mind went blank. Two years of being in a relationship and over a year of living together, seemingly in bliss and like you had been made for each other. Until everything changed.
It started with your dates being shorter than usual, then Tom postponed dates you had planned together weeks in advance.
When you kissed Tom, it didn't ignite the same passion it used to. At first, you shrugged it off as him simply not being in the mood, although unless he was exhausted, sick or feeling bad, that was rarely the case. Still, you chose to see it that way and not read into it too much. This far into a relationship the physical aspect wasn't as important for many couples.
But later on, even the kisses without the goal to get into bed became strange. You were often the one to initiate them as he suddenly avoided doing so more than necessary, and you could tell there was no more feeling behind those kisses that now rather felt like obligatory chaste kisses with an acquaintance you would get forced to share under a mistletoe by your overenthusiastic aunt.
While you were used to waking up next to him whenever he was at home and could sleep a little longer, always greeted with cuddles and kisses, there came a time when he was never in bed when you woke up.
Another thing that made you incredibly anxious was his indifference when you brought up romantic memories in an attempt to bring the spark back. Anytime you asked if he remembered that one specific date, he changed the topic or kept his answer limited to ‘yeah, that was a nice one’ instead of joining you in reminiscing.
In the following weeks, you made attempts to bring back the spark and fix things without making it feel like you were staging an intervention. You started cooking his favorite meals when he had been having a rough time at work, you dressed up in his favorite outfits for dates that weren't even fancy dinners, you bought him little things that made you think of him.
Although he thanked you and smiled, he wasn't as enthusiastic as he had been just a few months ago and when he said ‘I love you’, it sounded less genuine and more like when you said you loved a shoe brand or you loved a sandwich. There was none of that warm eye contact and soft squeezes of the hand followed by a kiss on the temple.
The truth was you still loved him and you hoped he did too, even if nothing pointed to it currently. You wanted to rekindle the romance and make him remember how good you were together and how happy you made each other. But you were not sure how long you could take all of this.
One day you decided you had to confront him about it. And that day was the morning before Christmas Eve. You didn't care if you would ruin the holidays by doing so, but would it be any better to leave it this way?
Waking up in an empty bed, walking into the kitchen to find Tom finishing breakfast in silence without a good morning kiss and avoiding sitting at the table longer than necessary, opening a much less thoughtful gift than you were used to from him and seemed like he had bought it a few days prior just so he could wrap something for decency's sake, not hanging up mistletoe because he wouldn't even kiss you without force in situations he usually did, not reminiscing about previous holidays and how you had fallen in love, sitting in the living room knowing he didn't love you anymore and the only reason you were still together was because neither of you had the courage to talk about it.
If this was the alternative, you would rather get it over with and ask him to either work it out or break up.
First, you observed how he acted at the kitchen table today. Deep inside, there was a glimmer of hope that he would change and maybe the past months had simply been stressful for him. Now he was off duty and could unwind, but nothing was different about how he only briefly looked up to murmur ‘good morning’ before continuing to eat in silence and avoiding eye contact despite you sitting opposite him and pausing before you began to eat as well.
“You don't love me anymore, do you?” you spoke up suddenly.
The grating of Tom's fork on the plate stopped immediately. With a sigh, his eyes darted up for a second but not long enough to see the look in his eyes. Then he wordlessly looked back down and slowly cut his fried egg.
You sat back and swallowed, folding your hands in your lap. “You can be honest. I don't want you to keep me around, knowing this isn't a relationship anymore.”
This time, Tom looked directly into your eyes for the first time in what must have been weeks, which made you wonder when exactly they had turned as cold as he was while flying. The callsign Iceman said it all now. To your surprise, he didn't look away and he did respond, albeit hesitantly.
“I'm sorry,” he said in a way that made you realize it was, in fact, over. “I don't know what happened, I've just fallen out of love.”
You simply nodded with an emotionless expression, not wanting to give him the triumph of seeing you cry, as much as you felt like it. You weren't sure whether he would feel proud of getting that reaction out of you, or console you, or sit still and let you cry it out, or say it was a form of manipulation. He hadn't been one to let an argument escalate and rub salt into the wound when you were already crying, but at this point you weren't sure anymore. This was not the same man you had fallen in love and spent the last two years with.
His answer shouldn't have surprised you, but that didn't mean it didn't break your heart. You were very much hurt, but you tried your best to stay calm. You couldn't do anything about it and he didn't seem to be willing either, or else he would have made attempts to get closer again.
“I could tell. When I tried to fix things, you were just as distant as you've been all the time these last few months.” You took a sip from your glass to hide your slightly quivering lip.
“I wish I could change it, but that's how it is right now.”
The way he so casually said that made your heart sting. Didn't he want to give it just one more chance? You hadn't been close to a breakup before, even while fighting, and with a little effort, it wasn't a lost cause. Hell, you could have gone to couple's therapy or on vacation where it was just the two of you, perhaps trying new hobbies.
“So this is it?” you asked, unable to keep the tears from welling up in your eyes. Still, you maintained eye contact with him because you wanted him to say it to you without looking away in shame when he confirmed what you had suspected for a while.
Tom simply nodded, not saying another word and eventually lowering his gaze. Neither of you were hungry enough to finish your breakfast, but neither of you stood up and left the table. Instead, you both sat in silence, concentrating on the grain pattern of the wooden table or shoving the food around the plate as if you were actually in the mood to eat anymore.
Although you should have hated him now, you enjoyed the concept of sitting at this table together one last time. As if that would change anything about the fact that your relationship was beyond saving. Nonetheless, you looked up every now and then to memorize every detail of Tom's face, even if it only hurt you more, knowing this wouldn't be the face you see first thing in the morning half asleep with one eye open, or up close when he pulls you in for a kiss, or above you when he whispers how much he wants you. Not anymore.
Eventually, you were the first to push your chair back and leave the room. Tom didn't look up. He had his elbow propped up on the table, hand covering his chin and mouth as he stared at one tile of the backsplash. The romantic in you thought it might have been the tile that had a crack in it from when you had dropped it while renovating because he had surprised you with a hug from behind. Surely it wasn't that. It was only an empty spot he could stare at to avoid your eyes.
You made your way to the bedroom and started packing your necessities. Regarding furniture and decorations, you would come back another time when he wasn't at home and ask someone to help you drive it all to your parents’ house until you would find a place of your own.
What was the point in staying any longer? Moving out today was the best option for both of you. He had made it clear that it was over and even if you wanted to give up your remaining dignity to try and convince him, he wouldn't change his mind.
While going through the wardrobe, you came across a shirt from his high school volleyball team. It had been in your possession for over a year and you had sworn to never return it, but you hadn't felt like wearing it after Tom had stopped showing interest in you. Since he had started acting differently, you had only worn it once in an attempt to put a smile on his face like it usually did when he saw you in it. But that hadn't happened this time, so it had stayed in the closet since.
After a few minutes of just staring at it, you brought the shirt up to smell the fabric. A lot of his scent had been washed out by detergent in the meantime, but it still smelled like him and that was enough for one last symbolic moment of closeness. Then you tossed it in his half of the closet and continued packing your own clothes.
Within an hour, you were ready. An hour in which Tom didn't show up. You weren't sure whether he was even in the house or had gone out. A part of you would have preferred the latter so you wouldn't be forced to say goodbye in a way that would leave you forever wishing you had said something else. Another part of you still hadn't lost hope and wanted him to be here and apologize, asking you to stay.
For a moment, you thought Tom was standing in the doorway, but when you turned around, nobody was there. You walked down to the front door where you found him waiting. Gripping the suitcase and bags tighter, you took a deep breath and slowly walked up to him. You had no choice; he was standing right next to the door you wanted to leave through.
You didn't know what you expected, but you stood in front of him, looking at him one more time and blinking back the tears that were returning after you had just wiped them away upstairs with one hand while folding clothes with the other.
Tom's eyes were the same as earlier, except there was something new in them. Guilt would have been your guess, but he didn't say anything for as long as you stood there. Only when you reached for the doorknob, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”
You turned back to him, angry at this question. How dare he ask you that now when he had been finding excuses not to kiss you and when he had given in, they were nowhere near the kisses you had shared before?
“Why? You said yourself you don't love me anymore,” you said quietly, afraid you would break out in tears if you spoke any more or any louder. With that, you opened the door and dragged your luggage along behind you, not looking back to see his reaction.