Chapter 3

The next morning, the routine was broken.

Usually, I was the first one up. I' d make coffee, the strong, dark roast she liked. I' d run out and grab her a breakfast burrito from the place down the street. I' d make sure her world was comfortable and easy before I even thought about my own.

Not today.

I woke up early, showered, and sat down at my desk in the living room. I opened my laptop and started working on a new level design for the game I was developing. The lines of code, the creation of a new world, felt clean and logical. It was a relief.

Nicole stumbled out of the bedroom around ten, hungover and squinting against the light. She saw me at the desk and frowned.

"No coffee?"

"No," I said, not looking up from my screen.

She huffed and went into the kitchen, slamming cupboards. A few minutes later, she came back into the living room, holding a glass of water.

"Ryan had to drive me home last night," she said, her tone a clear invitation for a fight. She was fishing for a reaction, any reaction.

I kept my eyes on my work. "Oh. Tell him not to drive buzzed next time. It's dangerous."

The silence that followed was thick with her disbelief. I could feel her staring at the back of my head, willing me to turn around, to engage, to become the man she knew.

I didn't.

She tried again later that afternoon. I was getting ready for work.

"Ryan's going through a really tough breakup," she announced, as if this was breaking news. "He's a mess. I'm going to take him to dinner tonight. He really needs my support."

In the past, this would have been a landmine. I would have argued, pleaded, pointed out how inappropriate it was.

Today, I just shrugged on my jacket. "Okay. Have fun."

I walked to the door. I could feel her eyes on me, wide with a mixture of shock and fury. I didn't turn around. I just closed the door behind me and left her standing there, alone in the quiet apartment. The loss of control was written all over her face, and for the first time, it didn't scare me. It felt like freedom.