I ended my engagement after my fiancée asked for a break to see if her ex still meant something to her. She thought I would sit and wait inside the life we had spent four years building — until three days later, her mother called me, and Tessa finally realized I was never her backup plan.

Her face tightened. “I’m not asking for permission,” she said. “I’m telling you what I need.”

That landed differently.

Until then, I had been hurt. After that, I was angry. I stood and began pacing because sitting still made me feel like I was agreeing to be humiliated.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked. “You pack a bag and head over to Dylan’s place? Is that your big moment of clarity?”

“No,” she said quickly.

“It’s not like that. I don’t know what it looks like yet, but I need clarity before we move forward. I owe it to myself to know I’m making the right decision.”

“You owe it to yourself?” I repeated, laughing once without humor.

“What about what you owe me? We’re engaged, Tessa. We’re supposed to be building a life together, and you’re telling me you need to test-drive your ex to make sure I’m worth marrying?”