“You went bowling? With your boss?” Tyler’s groggy voice asked as I paced around the guest bedroom in Jude and Lailah’s coastal home. I could hear the waves crashing outside my window, calmly reminding me of the late hour. That made me only that much more aware of the time difference in New York.

“Yeah, it was fun. We needed to get out of the house and blow off some steam. Especially Roman. He’s been so busy and stressed. It was good for him.”

The line went quiet as I waited for him to respond. I nervously fidgeted with the little bow on my pajama pants, as I paced around the room.

I shouldn’t have called. I should have waited until morning. Telling your boyfriend you’d been out late with another man, especially one he already loathed, at this late hour was bound to be nothing short of a disaster.

“Roman?” he finally said.

“What?”

“You called him Roman. Since when do you call him Roman?”

More fighting, more nervousness.

“Oh, um… I guess since today. It became a little cumbersome to refer to him as Mr. Cavenaugh all the time.”

No reply. No explosion. No yelling or name calling.

Nothing.

“Listen, it’s late. I’ve got to get up in a few hours for work. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he said simply. There was little anger in his voice. It was as if he’d switched to autopilot.

“Oh, okay. I’ll let you get back to sleep then.”

The call dropped, and I was left with my twitchy hands and an untied bow, wondering what had just happened.

I’d expected an outburst of words, an epic exchange of dialogue where he laid it all out on the table, professing his never-ending love for me and how much it hurt to know I’d spent the night with another man.

I knew it was cruel, but tonight hadn’t started out as a test. I hadn’t purposely sought out the company of another man to see how Tyler would react. But, standing here now, I realized something. He’d just failed a very important test.

Did he even want me anymore?

I felt raw and shattered after my talk with Tyler. Since sleep was no longer an option, I found myself wandering the halls, lost in thought, wondering how we’d ended up like this.

Life with Tyler had always been easy.

In our eight years together, that was the one word I’d use to describe it.

Easy.

Even when we had been half a country apart, we’d managed to make it work seamlessly. He’d started his own life at NYU, and I’d done the same in Lincoln. We’d barely seen each other, but when we had, we’d always picked back up right where we’d left off.

It was effortless.