Jamie leaned against the kitchen counter, the light of his laptop screen reflecting in his green eyes. He was supposed to be drafting a grant proposal for the nonprofit, but the cursor had been blinking at the end of the same sentence for ten minutes. His attention was entirely on his phone.

Okay, new plan, he thought, abandoning the grant proposal completely. A surprise. I'll pick up sushi, the spicy rolls he likes, and simply show up. A nice, low-key night in. No pressure.

Twenty minutes later, Jamie was power-walking down the street, a paper bag heavy with takeout containers swinging by his side. It was getting dark, the streetlights casting a cold, uninviting glare on the pavement. There was a bounce in Jamie's step. He could fix this: Diego was having a hard time, and Jamie was going to be the steady pillar, the one who brought patience, affection, and premium sashimi.

He reached Diego’s building and stopped in front of the door, staring at the intercom button. But as he raised his hand to ring it, he hesitated.

He lowered his hand and pulled his phone out, unlocking it to stare at the thread he’d been avoiding. The screen glowed harsh and bright in the dim street. Jamie squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, wincing.

Jamie: Hey! Thinking of you. Want to grab dinner tonight?

Diego: Not feeling in the mood today. Sorry.

Jamie: No worries! Another time. How was your day?

Below that last message, sent hours ago, was a small, damning label: Read.

There was no reply. He had convinced himself that a surprise was different, that it didn't count as "plans." But staring at the one-sided conversation now, the silence pressed against his ears louder than the traffic on the road.

He looked at the building entrance. Should he still buzz? He could say, I’m here anyway, I brought the sushi you like.

Do I really want to force this? Jamie thought, the question landing with a dull thud in his chest. To sit in a silent room, trying to make conversation with someone who wishes he was alone? No. Not again.

Slowly, Jamie turned around and walked away.

***

The next evening, the group gathered at Romy’s. Usually, the apartment was vibrant, but tonight the background music sounded sadder than it was.

Jamie was curled up in the armchair, knees pulled to his chest, looking smaller than Nico had ever seen him. He wasn't crying, which somehow made it worse. He sat with the stillness of a statue that had been knocked over and decided to stay there. Romy sat on the arm of the chair, their hand resting gently on his shoulder. Nico and Yani were on the sofa, leaning forward.

"Jamie," Romy said softly. "You okay?"

Jamie looked up. His eyes were dry, but dull. "I... Diego... I ended it."

Nico exchanged a serious look with Yani. "Shit," Nico’s voice was low. "I’m so sorry. What happened?"

Jamie let out a breath that was half sigh, half shudder. "Nothing happened. That’s the problem." He traced the pattern on the armchair fabric. "He’s... he’s in such a dark place. And I tried. I really did. I thought I could help him."

He looked up at them, his expression pleading for understanding. "I guess you can’t be the sun for someone who’s not even trying to see it."

Nico nodded, the truth of it settling heavy in the room. He knew that feeling. The exhausting, one-sided effort of trying to pull someone onto a life raft when they were determined to swim down.

"I felt myself getting pulled down with him," Jamie continued, his voice trembling slightly. "It’s like I was in a relationship with a ghost. He said he’s sorry, that he’s not ready to be close. That he wishes he had met me at a better time. It felt so... lonely."

Romy slid from the arm of the chair to sit beside him, pulling him into a proper hug. Jamie sank into it, his forehead resting against their shoulder.

"That’s not your fault, Jamie," Romy said firmly. "You tried. You gave it everything. And you did the right thing for yourself."

Jamie pulled back after a moment, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I know, but I just... I feel like I should text him. To make sure he’s okay. I’m so worried about him."

"Sure, and while you’re at it," Yani said, "email your ex, call your dad, and fall into a well. Let’s go all in."

There was a beat of silence. Then, against all odds, a small, watery laugh escaped Jamie. "You’re an asshole," Jamie said, sniffing.

"I know," Yani agreed comfortably. "But I’m right."

Jamie’s laugh faded, but the tension in his shoulders had dropped a bit. He looked up at his friends. "I got out of a relationship to chase someone I couldn't reach," he said, his voice clearer now. "Now someone I couldn't save."

He took a deep breath, as if tasting the air for the first time in a while.

"No more rescue missions," Jamie declared.

"No more rescue missions," Nico echoed, smiling.

"We can drink to that," Yani said, reaching for a bottle on the coffee table. "Or we can order pizza? Sushi? I'm good with either."

"Pizza," Jamie said instantly. "No sushi for a month."