Part 1He Shared Our Intimacy with a Stranger

I was preparing a surprise for Danny Wells’s birthday when I stumbled across a thread on a popular forum.

[My crush has a girlfriend, but should I still confess to him on his birthday?]

The comments were a sea of angry question marks. To gather support, she updated the original post.

[I’m a third-year resident at a top teaching hospital. My current career trajectory and future standing will easily eclipse his current girlfriend’s.]

[She got into her program on a special admission—a legacy kid, probably barely passed the MCAT. Do I need to elaborate on how easy her path was?]

[A group of us have known him for almost a year, and none of us have ever seen a photo of this girl. I think either she’s ugly or he’s just not that into her.]

[His girlfriend is obviously the lovesick type; she just posts sappy little essays. I, on the other hand, can show him my devotion with practical action.]

[We’ve known each other for 332 days, and our Snapchat streak is at 300.]

[I’m an eight out of ten—good looking, great figure, and a genuinely likable personality. I’m the kind of high-EQ girl who could be his best partner in both work and life.]

...

I tapped the photo she attached, and my gaze locked on the man’s wrist.

Even without seeing his face, I immediately recognized the watch. It was Danny.

On the day of our breakup, everyone tried to console me. “It’s just casual sharing, Mia. It’s not even an emotional affair.”

I shook my head. “Every meaningless thing they chose to share with each other was, at its core, a desperate bid to be let into the other’s life.”

The relentless desire to share every single detail—that’s the real connection. That’s love’s oxygen.

* * *

I hadn't told Danny I was coming back to Seattle. I wanted his birthday surprise to be genuine.

Just half an hour ago, he'd sent me his location.

A new ramen place downtown. A few of us from the hospital are grabbing a bite after our shift.

If it’s good, I’ll take you next time!

He was still the same, checking in constantly, reporting his whereabouts whenever he had a spare moment.

I turned off my phone and changed my destination.

When I arrived at the restaurant, they had just been seated.

I pulled my baseball cap low and sat at a table two booths behind theirs.

Danny came out of the restroom, and a girl nearby, carrying two small dipping bowls, walked right up to him.

“The house special, and this one? This is the one you always make. I mixed it for you.”

Danny took the bowl, tasting it naturally. “The special is pretty spicy, Ronnie. You better skip it.”

The girl, Ronnie, smiled radiantly. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

The two people closest to me immediately dropped their voices to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Are they really not together yet? I can’t believe it.”

“All those people at the med school crush on Danny, and he always kept his distance. Turns out his actual destiny was waiting here.”

“No kidding. Danny is swamped with his residency, but he still checks her notes for night shifts. They’re a total power-couple move, career-wise.”

“Ronnie is obsessed with him, too. It hasn’t even been a year, and I heard she’s practically doing his laundry at his place.”

...

Destined by fate.

Power couple.

Washing Danny's clothes.

My phone vibrated. The thread had been updated again.

[Out to dinner with my crush! He’s so thoughtful—he even tasted the dip first to warn me it was spicy. Honestly, who wouldn't be crazy about a guy like that?]

Someone had commented: [No matter how great he is, he’s still somebody else’s boyfriend. I suggest the host get her relationships straight before falling into a lovesick delusion.]

That comment was immediately deleted.

I put my phone down. Danny and his colleagues were now seated, eating and venting about life—everything from their questionable college major choices to the hell of last night’s shift.

Someone changed the topic.

“Hey, isn’t it your birthday in a couple of days, Danny? Should we all get together?”

Danny refused, as usual. “I already have plans that day. It’s just a birthday, no need to make a fuss.”

“Oh, come on, you wouldn’t be so quick to say no if Ronnie asked. Ronnie, why don’t you say something?”

Ronnie put down her chopsticks, a touch of pique in her voice. “His girlfriend is having a private celebration with him. What am I to him?”

“Girlfriend? Wait, I heard whispers, but… you actually have a girlfriend?”

I slowly lowered my eyes.

This was my eighth year with Danny.

We’d successfully navigated the seven-year itch, and we’d met each other’s families.

So, whether or not my photo appeared on his social media was an irrelevant detail—especially since he never posted anything anyway.

But in that moment, I was terrified of his answer.

I instinctively grabbed my glass and gulped down the water, coughing until my chest ached.

“Yes, I have one. But we’re long-distance.”

It was Danny’s voice.

Low. Calm. Unemotional.