Dave seemed stunned that I would trump him this way. He started to say something, but the sight of me holding his phone made him shut his mouth.

“You are such a fucking liar,” I shrieked.

“Dani, don’t do this,” he begged, moving my way, “I can explain.”

I threw the phone at him hard. It bounced off his shoulder, then skidded across the hardwood floor. “I’d love to hear another explanation from you about this!” I screamed, surprising myself with my shriek.

“Why did you have to get all Five-O on me about this?” Dave screamed back. “This is your work shit—all this spying and sneaking around. You’re a crazy bitch!”

“All Five-O on you?” I yelled. “Is that some sort of hipster slang for Hawaii Five-0?”

“Yeah, it is,” he answered. “Half my friends don’t know how I put up with your crazy shit for this long!”

“Oh fine, that’s great, Dave,” I shouted back. “You’re full of shit. You fucked her. Of course you did. You’re trying to put this on me— and for once, I’m standing up to your bullshit. So get out of here— you’re a liar.”

I was surprised how strong I sounded, because I was a mess.

Picking up his phone from the floor, he brushed by me toward the front door. Giving me one last look, he pointed his finger at me and gritted, “You are psycho.”

“Get out of here, I hate you!” I screamed.

But he was already out the door and gone.

Throwing myself across the green marshmallow couch, I let myself fall apart. The hot tears rolled down my face. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and just let them flow. My mom used to tell me if I didn’t stop crying when I was horizontal I would have “tears in my ears.”

Lucy knew it was a crisis. She rubbed up against my leg and held her head up toward me so I would pet her.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I cooed, scratching her neck the way she liked. Lucy purred back appreciatively. I really loved her so much, and for a brief second I didn’t feel so lonely. Then I started crying, because a woman in her thirties home alone with her cat is just pathetic.

Getting myself together, I strained to hear something . . . anything. My eyes darted around my living room, taking in my apartment. Hardwood floors, flat screen TV, overflowing desk. Everything seemed in order, but I still sought to discern any noise at all. The house was still and quiet. It finally dawned on me what I was hearing.

I heard nothing, and I knew it was the sound of being single.