Only something like the casual use of the word 'girlfriend' would cause this to unravel so quickly, to crumble the essence of their dynamic. It was a clear sign that their foundation was rocky, that no matter how many times they tried or ignore any danger signs, this was never built to last.
It felt like a gut punch then, tears welling in her eyes as the glaringly obvious choice to make was laid right out in front of her. "I don't want to lose you either." The words were thick, catching in the back of her throat slightly, as she felt the tears begin to slide down her cheeks. Phoebe didn't have the strength to wipe them away, though, just using the last of her energy to lock eyes with Foster again.
She couldn't lose him, she wished there was some other way. The guy who played along with her tipsy ramblings the first time they met, who taught her how to cook and wear his chef's hat. Who came over in the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep. How they had been on this very same couch, Phoebe giddy when he first kissed her, when she found out he liked her back. And all the moments, little or big, in between. They were them. Even through their fighting, they still made up, worked on becoming the best versions for themselves. How each time they wound up in this place, she felt sick not having her person by her side each day. How she couldn't bear going on with the rest of her life without him.
"You are everything I need, Foster." She had told him that, back in Utah, lust tinging her words but not making them any less sincere. "I just need you to give this a chance...we're already there. It's just one more leap of faith."
And there was the desperation, the clinging to the dust that was once a structure, slipping through her fingers like sand in an hour glass. The last few grains were tumbling towards the bottom, the timer tucked within Phoebe's ribs counting down its final seconds.
"I would never regret this, you'd never be a waste of time. I love you, Foster." And there it was, the final blow. The one thing she had been dreading, laid out before them now. Words that were meant to be a beautiful exchange, coming out an anguishd plea, a final Hail Mary to fix something to fragile to stick back together.