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Enmeshed

Colin wasn't going to accomplish much over this lunch. His mind had drifted to the dumb story London told him the night before - something about a dog in her building stealing a neighbor's Amazon package and leaving a sock in its place. She'd laughed so hard she snorted. He laughed harder because she'd snorted.

Ronan didn't find the story as funny when Colin recounted it now.

"Dude," Ronan said from across the table, "I'm saying this as . you gotta start spending less time with London."

Colin looked up. "What?"

Ronan shrugged, casual but pointed. "You cancel on dates. You skip guys' nights. You text her more than anyone. Look, I like London. She's great. But if I didn't know you, I'd assume you were in love with her."

Colin rolled his eyes. "We've been best friends since... I don't even know how long. It's not like that."

"I'm not saying it is," Ronan said, leaning in. "But the girls you go out with? They don't know that. They don't see 'childhood best friend.' They see some shadow girlfriend. Someone who already knows your moods, your favorite takeout, and the last person you called when your car battery died."

Colin frowned. "I didn't call her because she's London, I called her because she had jumper cables."

"Exactly," Ronan deadpanned. "She fills pretty much every role someone else might want to."

"Not every role," Colin couldn't resist a smirk.

"Again: They don't know that."

Colin leaned back, suddenly unsure. It wasn't romantic. Never had been. London was the person who always had snacks in her bag and knew how to shut down his spirals with a dumb meme. She was his constant. His anchor. But maybe… was she also an unintentional blockade.

Ronan clapped him on the shoulder. "No one's saying ditch her. Just… leave some space for someone new to step in."

Colin didn't answer right away. But for the first time, he wondered what his life looked like to everyone else. And how much of it already seemed taken.