The elevator doors slid open, and I came face to face with Samuel and Patsy, just about to step in.
"It's the middle of the night. What are you throwing a fit about this time?"
Samuel's eyes dropped to my suitcase, his brow knitting tight.
Half-hidden behind him, Patsy leaned out and clapped a hand over her mouth in pretend shock.
"Millie, are you running away from home? Just because I said I wanted seafood stew earlier?"
She tugged at Samuel's sleeve, her voice pitched to sound wounded.
"Sam, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have asked for anything. Please, go smooth things over with Millie."
Samuel patted the back of her hand, telling her not to worry.
Then he stepped forward and blocked my way.
"Millie, you've been running this same act for three years. Aren't you tired of it yet?"
"Every time you get mad, you pack your bags, and every time you come crawling back on your own. You think this is fun?"
I looked at him.
In three years, I had packed my bags exactly twice.
The first time was when he forgot my birthday and took Patsy to a concert.
The second time was when he lent Patsy the money we'd been saving together for a house so she could start her business.
Both times, he'd stopped me at the door.
First silence, then a sigh, and finally he'd take my hand and tell me to stop acting up. And once I softened, he'd carry on as if nothing had happened.
"I was in the wrong, but Patsy's situation is special."
"Stop making a scene. I've sent you twenty grand. Go buy yourself a bag."
He thought this time was the same, that I was just using it to force him to back down.
"Put the suitcase back."
When I said nothing, his tone eased a little.
"I was partly to blame today too. I shouldn't have joked about proposing. I've got the day off tomorrow. I'll take you to the counter and let you pick out a real diamond ring. Happy now?"
He reached out to take my suitcase.
"Patsy's stomach is really hurting, and every restaurant out there is closed. Just go back now and get the stew going, and we'll call it settled."
I moved my suitcase away from his hand.
His fingers closed on empty air, and his face darkened at once.
"Millie, I'm giving you a way out. Don't push your luck."
I listened to him without the slightest ripple of feeling.
So it turned out letting someone go was this simple.
I took the spare key from my pocket and set it lightly on the fire hydrant beside us.
"Samuel. These three years, sorry to have troubled you."
My voice was soft, like a gust of wind that could scatter at any moment.
"No need to buy the ring, and I won't be making any seafood stew again. If Miss Baxter's stomach hurts, you can learn to cook for her yourself."
Samuel froze.
He stared at the key as if he still hadn't caught up.
"What's that supposed to mean?" His eyes narrowed, a warning creeping into his voice.
"You want to break up? Millie, think this through. You walk out that door now, and don't ever think about coming back."
Looking at that confident face of his, I suddenly found it a little funny.
I stepped around him and wheeled my suitcase out of the elevator.
Samuel just stood there and let out a cold laugh. "Fine. Let's see how long you can keep up the tough act."
After the elevator doors closed.
The phone in Samuel's pocket suddenly chimed with a text alert.
He pulled it out lazily and glanced down.
"Mr. Vance, the companion on your two-person aurora trip has been canceled. Your refund will be processed within three business days."
