The shift didn’t happen overnight, but Daisy could feel it. The way Jordan’s voice came through the phone, less warm, less anchored to her felt different. It wasn’t like the first weeks, when they would talk until their phone batteries gave up, laughing about the smallest things, swapping secrets in hushed tones like the world only existed for them.

It started with the little pauses. She’d ask something, and instead of answering right away, there would be the faint sound of voices in the background or the rustle of papers. “Sorry, what was that?” he’d say, and she’d repeat herself, pretending it didn’t sting.

One afternoon, she was lying on...