“I just don’t mix work with my personal life.”
Another explanation.
Another excuse.
Another answer I accepted because loving someone often meant choosing trust over suspicion.
One rainy evening, nearly a month after our cabin trip, I decided to ask directly.
We were cooking dinner together in my apartment.
He chopped vegetables while I stirred pasta sauce.
Without looking at him, I asked, “Why don’t you ever call me your girlfriend?”
The knife stopped moving.
“What?”
“You always introduce me by name.”
He resumed cutting tomatoes.
“I didn’t realize that mattered.”
“It matters a little.”
He shrugged.
“I figure people can assume.”
“I don’t want people to assume.”
He finally looked up.
“So what exactly do you want?”
“I want to feel like I’m actually part of your life.”
His expression softened immediately.
He walked around the counter, wrapped both arms around my waist, and kissed my forehead.
“You know I love you.”
There it was again.
The sentence that ended every uncomfortable conversation.
“I know,” I whispered.
“But sometimes love shouldn’t feel invisible.”
He rested his forehead against mine.
“I promise you’re overthinking this.”
Maybe I was.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
Because every time I got close to asking a difficult question, Tyler somehow found the perfect reassuring answer.
He never raised his voice.
Never became defensive.
He simply made me feel guilty for doubting him.
And I hated feeling like the suspicious girlfriend.
For illustrative purposes only
That Sunday night, after he left my apartment, he texted me exactly as he always did.
9:14 PM
Home safe.
Two minutes later.
Already miss you.
Then another.
Love you. Sleep well.
I smiled despite everything.
Then, twelve minutes later, another notification appeared.
Not from Tyler.
A friend request.
The woman’s profile picture showed a brunette smiling beside a golden retriever.
Her name was Avery Lawson.
I almost ignored it.
Then I noticed she’d attached a message.
I’m sorry to contact you like this. I know this is strange, but I think you deserve to know the truth about someone we’re both connected to.
My stomach tightened.
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