He calls immediately. “Who’s the guy?” You laugh, thinking he’s joking. He’s not. “I’m not mad. I just… I need to know if I’m being stupid for still holding on.” Silence. “I haven’t even looked at anyone else,” he says. “Not because I can’t. Because I don’t want to. But if this thing is over, I need you to look me in the eye and say it.” You don’t say anything. That’s how he knows it’s not.