She decided to cut Marcus off. Cold turkey.
No more texts. No more answering his calls. No more letting him slip in and out of her life like a phantom.
At first, it was easy. Then, the withdrawal hit.
She missed his laughter, his compliments, his presence. She replayed memories in her head, convincing herself that maybe—just maybe—he would come around.
But he didn't.
Instead, she filled the void with work, fitness, therapy, and Lola's weekly pep talks.
She also started seeing someone else—a quiet, grounded engineer named Andre. He was six months divorced, emotionally open, and refreshingly predictable. He sent good morning texts, remembered details about her day, and didn't treat her like a secret.
But Nia struggled to trust him.
She expected him to ghost. Expected him to flake. Expected him to pull away.
But he didn't.
And that scared her more than anything.
---
**The Emotional Withdrawal**
It had only been three days since she stopped responding to Marcus's messages, but already, the silence felt deafening.
She caught herself reaching for her phone every time it buzzed, heart leaping at the thought that it might be him.
But it wasn't.
Sometimes it was Lola checking in.
Other times, it was her assistant reminding her about meetings.
Once, it was an automated email from a fashion brand she liked.
Never Marcus.
And yet, she kept expecting him to reach out again.
To send a message that made her stomach flutter.
To show up unannounced with a bouquet of roses or a box of chocolates.
To whisper something sweet in her ear and make her forget why she walked away in the first place.
But he didn't.
And with each passing hour, she realized something unsettling:
Letting go hurt more than she expected.
Not because she still loved him.
But because she had built so much of her emotional world around chasing him.
Around waiting for him.
Around hoping he'd finally choose her.
Now, without that hope, there was just… space.
Empty.
Unsettling.
Terrifying.
She sat on the edge of her bed one night, staring at the ceiling.
"What now?" she whispered into the darkness.
Because if she wasn't chasing Marcus anymore…
If she wasn't waiting for some emotionally unavailable man to change his ways…
Then who was she?
What did love look like when it wasn't wrapped in drama and disappointment?
Would she even recognize it?
---
**Therapy Session: Facing the Void**
During her next session with Dr. Gadot, Nia arrived looking exhausted.
Dark circles under her eyes.
Hair pulled back in a messy bun.
Makeup absent.
She slumped into the chair across from Dr. Gadot and let out a long sigh.
"I feel like I'm falling apart," she admitted.
Dr. Gadot tilted her head. "Why?"
Nia rubbed her temples. "Because I finally cut him off."
"And how does that feel?"
"Worse than I expected."
Dr. Gadot leaned forward slightly. "Tell me more."
Nia exhaled slowly. "I thought once I stopped engaging with him, I'd feel free. Like I'd finally taken control of my life. But instead, I feel... lost."
"That makes sense."
"It does?"
"Yes. When we spend years building our emotional lives around someone—even someone who doesn't deserve that kind of attention—it creates a dependency. And when you remove that person, it leaves a void."
Nia nodded. "That's exactly what it feels like."
Dr. Gadot smiled gently. "You're not broken, Nia. You're grieving."
"Grieving what?"
"The fantasy. The idea that this man could be different. That he could be the one. That he could finally give you the love you've always wanted."
Nia swallowed hard. "I didn't realize I was holding onto that."
"You were. And now that you've let go, you're facing the reality that he never really showed up for you—and he never will."
Nia blinked back tears. "It hurts."
"It should. Letting go of something you wanted—even if it was unhealthy—is painful."
"So what do I do now?"
Dr. Gadot leaned back in her chair. "Now, you learn how to fill that space with yourself."
Nia frowned. "How?"
"By recognizing your worth. By reconnecting with your passions. By rebuilding your confidence—not through someone else's validation, but through your own self-love."
Nia looked down at her hands. "I don't know if I remember how to do that."
"You do. You just forgot to remind yourself."
---
**A New Man Enters the Picture**
Later that week, Nia met Andre for coffee.
They had been talking for a few weeks now—mostly casual, mostly low-key.
He had reached out after their last conversation, suggesting they meet up for drinks.
She agreed, curious to see if he was everything she hoped he might be.
And now, sitting across from him at a small café tucked inside a quiet corner of Brooklyn, she found herself surprised by how at ease she felt.
Andre was nothing like Marcus.
He didn't flirt with charm that masked avoidance.
He didn't disappear for days without explanation.
He didn't keep her guessing.
Instead, he listened.
Really listened.
When she talked about her work, he asked thoughtful questions.
When she mentioned therapy, he shared his own experience with counseling after his divorce.
There was no performance.
No game.
Just presence.
And it unsettled her.
Because she was used to men who kept her off-balance.
Men who made her chase them.
Men who offered excitement but withheld consistency.
But Andre?
He offered peace.
Stability.
Presence.
And for some reason, that terrified her.
---
**Internal Conflict**
As they talked, Nia found herself watching him closely.
Looking for flaws.
Waiting for red flags.
Trying to find reasons to doubt him.
But none came.
He was kind.
Patient.
Present.
And she couldn't figure out why that made her so uncomfortable.
Afterward, she walked home alone, replaying the conversation in her head.
She had told him about her past relationships.
About Elijah.
About Darius.
Even about Marcus.
And instead of being turned off by her emotional baggage, Andre had simply said, "We all have wounds. Healing takes time."
It was the most grounding thing anyone had ever said to her.
And yet, instead of feeling comforted, she felt afraid.
Because if Andre stayed?
If he showed up consistently?
If he actually *wanted* to build something real?
Then she wouldn't have an excuse to run.
She wouldn't have a reason to sabotage things.
She wouldn't have the familiar cycle of push-pull to fall back on.
And that meant she would have to face herself.
Fully.
Completely.
Without distraction.
Without escape.
And that terrified her more than anything.
---
**Lola Knows Best**
Later that evening, Nia met Lola at her apartment.
They were sprawled out on the couch, wine glasses in hand, watching reruns of *Living Single*.
"So," Lola said, swirling her glass. "How was coffee with Mr. Stability?"
Nia raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Stability?"
Lola grinned. "You know what I mean. The guy who doesn't ghost you."
Nia chuckled. "He's… different."
"In a good way?"
"In a terrifying way."
Lola blinked. "Wait, what?"
Nia sighed. "He's too good."
Lola burst out laughing. "Girl, what are you talking about? Since when is a man who shows up too good?"
Nia shook her head. "I don't know. It's just… he listens. He asks questions. He remembers things. He doesn't play games."
Lola smirked. "Sounds dangerous."
Nia rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."
"No, I don't. Enlighten me."
"I guess I'm just not used to it."
"To what?"
"To a man who wants to be there."
Lola studied her carefully. "So you're saying you're scared of someone who actually likes you?"
Nia hesitated. "Yes."
Lola set her wine down. "Why?"
Nia looked away. "Because if he stays… then I have to believe I'm worthy of that."
Lola softened. "And you don't?"
"I want to. But part of me still thinks I don't deserve love that lasts."
Lola reached over and squeezed her hand. "You do, girl. You absolutely do."
Nia blinked back tears. "I want to believe that."
"You will."
"How?"
"By giving yourself a chance. By letting him in. By choosing differently this time."
Nia nodded slowly. "I want to."
"Then do it."
---
**Journal Entry: Fear of Love**
Later that night, Nia sat at her desk, journal in hand.
She opened it to a blank page and began writing.
Dear Me,
Today, I met someone who didn't try to impress me with flashy words or grand gestures. He simply showed up. Fully. Honestly. Consistently. And it scared me.
Because for the first time in my life, I'm faced with a choice: continue running from love, or finally allow myself to receive it.
I've spent decades chasing men who couldn't give me what I needed. Men who left me feeling uncertain. Empty. Unworthy.
And now, here I am—with someone who offers the opposite. Someone who sees me. Who hears me. Who wants to be here.
And I don't know how to respond.
Part of me wants to run. To hide. To sabotage before I get hurt.
But another part of me—the stronger part—wants to stay. To open my heart. To finally let love in without conditions.
I am learning that healing isn't just about walking away from the wrong people. It's also about allowing the right ones in.
I am learning that love doesn't have to be complicated to be real.
I am learning that I deserve peace. Presence. Partnership.
And most importantly—I am learning that I am enough.
She closed the journal.
Tears streamed down her face.
But this time, they weren't tears of sadness.
They were tears of release.
Of realization.
Of healing.
---
**A Message That Changed Everything**
The next morning, Nia checked her phone.
There was a message from Andre.
"Hey Nia. Hope you're having a good morning. Would you like to grab dinner tonight?"
She stared at the screen.
This was different.
No games.
No disappearing acts.
No late-night texts followed by days of silence.
Just a simple, straightforward question.
And for once, she didn't hesitate.
She typed back:
"I'd love that. How about 7:30?"
She hit send.
And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't chasing.
She was choosing.
And that, she realized, was the beginning of something new.