She reached for me, but I just leaned away.

"Please," she cried, her tears streaming down her face in cascades of hurt. I couldn't look at her. Not at those eyes. The eyes I'd lied to for so long. Guilt scraped at my heart, but strangely anger did too.

"No," I replied coldly. She wailed louder.

"Everything we did. Everything you said. Why?" she asked hoarsely, sounding like she hadn't drunk water in days. I shook my head.

"I felt nothing," I replied bluntly. I couldn't hold pretences any longer. Faking love hurt the beholder too. I'd missed out on so much because of her. She took me from my family, from my hopes and dreams, from what mattered to me. I never could leave though. She had taken too much, and my family would never accept me after the things I'd done for her. I thought I was in love with her. I truly, a long long time ago, imagined a future together. Now? Nothing.

"I hate you," she spat, her eyes blazing with fury and pain. "I loved you." I didn't doubt that. She really had many things to suggest she did, but unfortunately her obsession with me came with a great price. My unreturned love. She grabbed her bag from the floor beside our table as a concerned waitress rushed to us. I waved my hand and the waitress hesitated, her eyes flitting between my nonchalant expression and Emily's pale, tear-streaked visage.

"The bill please," I said to the waitress and she scurried away.

"Don't come home tonight..."

"I wasn't planning on doing so," I cut her off. I had already anticipated this reaction and had made the decision to pack my clothes and book myself into a hotel beforehand. A new fresh of pain came over her face and she shakily got to her feet, her shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," I said gently, not wanting to utter the words but still acquiring enough decency to trump a little of the terrible ending I've caused. She didn't reply and turned on her heal, leaving behind a messy breakup but also a free man.