Her family didn't understand.
They weren’t there.
Taylor didn't think she could do it. She didn't think that she could let Fin go. There had to be a way to keep him. To convince him that she needed him, that she couldn’t survive without him.
But as she looked at him, she knew there wasn't.
She had lost him.
Chloe had won, and she had lost.
Anger and jealousy spent, the tears came next.
They came in a deluge, bursting out and flooding down her face in a relentless stream.
She wasn't doing it on purpose to try and emotionally blackmail him. She already knew that it would do no good.
Taylor tried to stop them, but she couldn’t.
She wanted Fin to wrap his arms around her and hold her against that sturdy chest, letting his heartbeat soothe her until her tears finally dried up.
But he didn't.
He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and waited for her to gather herself, his mind still with his ex. He wanted to go to her, to make sure she was okay, he didn't want to be stuck here with her.
It was time.
Time to climb out of the little protective bubble she had created for herself. She had to face the real world. She was free. She had her whole life ahead of her, she had to find a way to make it work.
On her own.
Without Fin.
With more strength than she thought she had, she straightened her spine, sniffed away the last of her tears, and prepared to let go of the first man she had ever loved.
*****
7:43 P.M.
Chloe stood staring at her Christmas tree, her Spotify Christmas playlist singing in the background, and a candy cane in her mouth.
This time last year her world had seemed so perfect. She had been pregnant with her first child, and she had finally realized that she was excited about the prospect of becoming a mother, even if it meant taking a little time away from the job she had dreamed about having most of her life. She and Fin had been so happy, and she’d had an inkling that he might even be thinking about proposing.
Everything had been perfect.
And now …
Now, she had nothing.
She wandered over to the box she kept squirreled away in the back of her closet. This evening when she got home from work tired and sore, she had pulled it out and brought it down to the family room. She only ever got it out when she was feeling particularly reminiscent.
And when she was feeling like a good cry.
Right about now, she needed a good cry.
A cleansing cry.
Chloe put her candy cane on a coaster, knowing it would leave a sticky mess behind that she would have to clean later, but at that moment, she didn’t care. She sat down on the sofa and set the box on her lap, opening it slowly, and staring inside.