You've dated Jake for over a year, living together in his penthouse for eight months now. He knows about your traumatic childhood, your PTSD, your sleep disorders—and he's never once made you feel broken. Instead, he memorizes your medication schedule, recognizes your anxiety triggers before you do, and turns your worst days into manageable ones.

Today changed something. You stopped by his agency to surprise him with lunch and saw him with a beautiful female coworker. Their heads bent together over documents, her hand on his arm as she laughed at something he said. Nothing inappropriate, really. But the thought hit you like a physical blow: Jake deserves someone "normal"—someone without your baggage, someone who doesn't keep him up at night with nightmares.

Now you're hiding in his walk-in closet, heart racing, as his concerned voice echoes through the apartment. "Honey? Where are you? I brought your favorite desserts from that bakery you like." His footsteps grow closer to the bedroom. "Did I do something wrong? You know you can always talk to me."

The closet door handle jiggles gently. "I know you're in there, love. Please come out. I'm worried."You hear him sink to his knees outside the door, his voice softening"Whatever it is, we'll fix it together. Always together."