- beca's pov -

we were sat in front of the fireplace, the silence in the room haunting, the tension felt between us unsettling.

"chloe, why?"

"beca let's not talk-"

she pulled her lip underneath her teeth, chewing at the skin. she stared at the floor, focused on the marble patterns.

"look at me."

she didn't look up.

"how long for, chloe?"

my breathing was coming in at short intervals, every heartbeat a thud against my ribcage.

"i don't know what you're talking about beca." her jaw clenched, the words barely seeping out through the small gap.

"bullshit." the words flew out of my mouth, sounding more sarcastic and toxic than i had intended it to be. chloe shuddered, blinked, and glanced up at me.

"what do you want to know? what fucking information do you need?" she mirrored my tone, her fist clenching tightly, knuckles turning white.

"chloe beale, just tell me, how long?" i suddenly sounded so much weaker. to keep this conversation going, i needed to be angry. or at least, act like i was furious. at the woman in front of me, at the woman i loved yet hated so much at the same time.

"fine! three months. you wanted to know right? well there you fucking go."

the words hit me like a punch in the face.

"three months."

"three fucking months. better?"

my mind flashed back to three months ago. we were sitting in the exact same room, in front of the fireplace. i remember crying into her chest, confessing to her that i felt like she was slowly falling out of love with me. she had stroked my back, telling me that i was overthinking it. those were lies. those were fucking lies.

i cried back then. she didn't.

"chloe... remember that conversation three months ago?"

her expression suddenly softened. her baby blue eyes gazed into mine.

"beca no i swear-"

"i was right, wasn't i?" my voice calm, but the thoughts running though my brain weren't. "you were falling out of love with me then, weren't you?"

"beca no, i promise, i wasn't."

"oh but you fell in love with him didn't you?"

there was no denying that. she broke our eye contact, turning to stare instead out the window. it was a sunny, fine day, perfect for a nice date, perfect for a walk in the park with a loved one.

i looked at her. she was indeed beautiful. her ginger red hair, although messy, was flowing down her shoulders. her figure was slim, her arms and legs toned to perfection. i let my eyes flutter shut in an attempt to forget about everything for a single second. i wanted nothing more than to run into her arms and sob into her chest; i wanted to feel her warm embrace, holding me even closer to her; i wanted to return to a place i once called home. i wanted to go back in time, and not fall in love with the beautiful ginger redhead who begged me to audition for a university acapella group.

a pair of arms pulled me into a warm embrace. i was all too familiar with the space around me, the sweet scent of her bringing back sweet memories of us together, before all this shit happened.

"did you ever even love me?" i suddenly blurted out. the arms around me loosened.

"are you serious? you were the first girl i fell in love with. you were the first person i introduced to my parents. you think i never loved you? i loved you with all my heart."

"chloe... then why? why did you fall out of love with me? where did i go wrong? what did i do?"

"no beca! it's not your fault at all, it was me. it was all me. i-"

her phone vibrated against the table. a notification popped up on the screen. "it's him, right?"

she didn't reply.

"you didn't love him at first, that's what you told me."

"yes."

"but you grew to love him."

those words settled upon the silence between us, heavy as it is. a tear rolled down my cheek. i stared down at the floor again, watching that teardrop fall onto the floor, splashing against the marble tiles. i barely saw my reflection in the marble. i looked broken; i was broken. i gulped in a breath of air;

"so why?"

"i don't know. i wish i knew, beca, i really wish i did."

my thoughts slowly enveloping myself, i felt another tear roll down my cheeks. i was stone cold, although it was in the middle of summer.

"what could i have done to make you stay?"

"there's nothing you could have done. you did everything right, i just... fucked up."

i looked up at her, astonished to see that her eyes were welling up with tears of regret and guilt.

"beca, i don't deserve you. i never did. i don't know what i did in the first place to deserve someone as wonderful as you. i'm sorry for leaving you broken. i hope you find someone else who won't fuck up like i have, someone who will give you all the love you need to keep you happy. beca mitchell, i love seeing you smile. i love seeing you happy. but i've fucked up, and it won't ever be the same again."

"i think i should go." i speak, hurt laced in between every word i spoke. i headed over to my bags, all packed, placed right behind the door as if i knew this was going to happen already.

"beca! don't go!"

"i really should." i picked up my bags and reached for the door handle.

i turned around.

"chloe, i hope he's better than me. i hope he can provide you with more than i could ever provide you with. i hope he was really worth the change. i hope you make him feel loved and comfortable. i hope he really makes you happy, chloe."

i wished those words would come out as bitchy and spiteful as i hoped they would, but they didn't. i genuinely meant every word i said. i loved the woman standing in front of me with all of my heart, and that's what happens when you genuinely fall in love with someone. i could't bring myself to be spiteful and spit bitter words of hatred at her.

i took one last glance at her, looked into her beautiful baby blue eyes, now bloodshot, and turned the door handle.