She picked up her desk phone, her fingers hovering over the keys, and then set it back in its cradle. Her hand was starting to shake, and she balled it into a fist, turning to the window and crossing her arms tight across her chest.

A little over two years ago, her friend Stuart had moved to Colorado. Despite the distance, their friendship hadn’t stumbled at all the first six months he’d lived there. They’d split the costs of his flights to New York once or twice a month, and he usually stayed with her for the whole weekend. They’d go dancing on Friday, have a long, gossipy, all-day mimosa brunch and a boozy dinner together on Saturday, and he’d fly home again on Sunday. In fact, they saw each other more during his first months in Colorado than they ever had when he’d lived here.

At the beginning of his time there, Stuart had been something of a wreck, terrified he’d made a big mistake moving, missing his friends and the nightlife in New York. She’d had to hold back an “I told you so” every time she saw him. Then, almost overnight, he’d started getting caught up in his new life. His career had taken off, and he was busier than ever. And not just busy—happy, excited even.

At first, the changes had been subtle. One weekend trip was switched for a later one—no big deal. Then the trips became less frequent—once a month, then every other month, then every third. Then, late last spring, they stopped altogether. The weekly phone calls had also gotten less frequent, until sometimes a whole month would pass without them catching up one way or another. Still, they’d managed to keep their friendship on life support through social media, and he’d met her in San Francisco for the Fourth of July weekend a little over six months ago. That, however, had been the last time they’d talked in depth. Ever since, they’d been missing each other altogether when they did try, or managing, at best, a five-minute chat here and there.

This wasn’t entirely his fault. She’d been incredibly busy all autumn and early winter, and without him around, pestering her to leave the office, she’d allowed herself to overwork. She’d occasionally seen his calls and tried to return them, but with the different times zones and her extremely late hours, they simply hadn’t managed to sync up for a long conversation, and they hadn’t talked at all in over two months.

Still, she’d tried harder than he had. He hadn’t even attempted to contact her for a few weeks now. She’d managed to suppress her disappointment with her busyness, but his behavior still hurt and, she realized now, angered her. He’d basically abandoned her.

Someone knocked on the door, and she spun, startled.