Chapter 4The 300-Day Streak

I went back to Evan's apartment. I still had my key. I had to get my things.

His laptop was on the coffee table, screen awake. He was still logged into Snapchat.

The girl was Chloe. Their streak was, just as her post had claimed, 300 days.

They talked about everything.

I scrolled up, and up, and up.

My own hypocrisy made me sick.

They went from sharing funny medical memes to swapping AI-generated joke photos of each other.

They talked about their high schools, their college regrets. They talked about the new coffee shop on the corner and the sunset on their drive home.

When Evan was so busy in surgery that he didn't have time to answer my texts, he somehow found time to console Chloe when a patient’s family yelled at her.

This past year, I’d felt so guilty about his brutal overnight shifts that I never, ever bothered him unless it was an emergency.

But Chloe felt just fine blowing up his phone, complaining that he’d almost let their streak die.

While I was ordering him meal-prep kits and reminding him to at least walk on the treadmill, he was celebrating Chloe's "first successful solo night" by taking her on a food truck tour of Austin's best barbecue.

And then I saw it. The date from two months ago.

The day I found an impurity in my control sample, destroying two months of my doctoral research.

I’d had a total meltdown. I called Evan, desperate to hear his voice.

He declined the call. He never even texted back.

I'd told myself he was in surgery.

He wasn't. He was with Chloe. He’d taken her to her first-ever concert.

...

Now I understood. The impurity in my petri dish only cost me two months of work.

The impurity in my relationship had cost me eight years.

Tears streamed down my face.

A new Snap notification popped up on the screen. It was from Chloe.

[Chloe: So... you're sure you can't hang out on your birthday?]

[Evan: Next time. I promise.]

[Chloe: ...Promise?]

[Evan: Scout's honor. ;)]

[Chloe: (Smiling selfie)]

Simultaneously, the Reddit thread updated again.

[EDIT 7: He dropped me home! We almost broke through that last barrier tonight. I'm what you'd call an 'initiator' in relationships, and I know I can help him realize his true feelings. The timing just isn't right... yet. I hope he figures it out soon.]

The attached photo was taken from the passenger seat. In the dim glow of the dashboard, Evan's hand was on her head, ruffling her hair. He was smiling.

I calmly packed my things.

Then I sent Evan a text.

[Me: Not coming for your birthday.]

His reply was almost instant.

[Evan: What? Why? Are you that swamped with work?]

I turned off my phone.

It’s not just this birthday, Evan. It’s all of them.

Busy or not, I won't be there.