The Perfect Boyfriend

If someone asked me what a perfect relationship looked like, I would have described mine.

Daniel and I had been together for three years.

Three years of good morning messages, late night calls, weekend dates, random flowers, and little arguments that never lasted long enough to matter.

He knew how I liked my coffee.

He knew I hated being left on read.

He knew that whenever I was upset, I needed a little space before I was ready to talk.

And most importantly, he knew how to make me feel loved.

At least, that's what I thought.

That Saturday morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee.

I opened my eyes and found Daniel sitting beside the bed, holding a cup.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

I smiled.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to watch you steal the blanket."

"I don't steal it."

"You absolutely do."

I reached for the cup.

"Is this mine?"

"No. I made it for myself."

I stared at him.

He laughed and handed it over.

"Fine. It's yours."

I took a sip.

Perfect.

I looked at him suspiciously.

"You remembered."

"I always remember."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Three years and you still look surprised when I remember your coffee."

"Because sometimes you forget."

"Name one time."

"Last month."

"That was one time."

"Exactly."

He laughed.

I couldn't help smiling.

This was Daniel.

Sweet.

Playful.

Patient.

The kind of boyfriend my friends were jealous of.

The kind of man my mother would have loved.

The kind of man I thought I would marry.

He stood up.

"Get dressed."

"Why?"

"I'm taking you somewhere."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

I sat up.

"Daniel."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

I narrowed my eyes.

"I hate surprises."

"You love surprises."

"I love knowing what the surprise is."

He laughed.

"Get ready."

He walked toward the door.

I threw a pillow at him.

He caught it.

"Violent."

"Annoying."

He smiled.

"See you in thirty minutes."

I watched him leave.

Then I smiled at myself.

Three years.

I still got excited over little things like this.

Maybe that was why I never noticed the changes.

Or maybe I noticed them.

I just didn't want to believe what they meant.

An hour later, Daniel took me to a small restaurant outside the city.

It wasn't expensive.

It wasn't fancy.

But it had a beautiful view of the river.

I looked around.

"You remembered this place."

"Of course."

We had our first official date there.

Three years ago.

I smiled.

"You're getting sentimental."

"Maybe."

He pulled out a chair for me.

I sat down.

He took the seat across from me.

For a while, everything felt exactly the same.

We talked.

We laughed.

He complained about work.

I complained about my boss.

He stole food from my plate.

I threatened to stab his hand with my fork.

Normal.

Comfortable.

Ours.

Then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

His smile disappeared for half a second.

It was quick.

Almost unnoticeable.

But I noticed.

"Work?"

He turned the phone face down.

"Yeah."

"Do you need to answer?"

"No."

He smiled.

"I'm with you."

I smiled back.

"Good answer."

His phone vibrated again.

He ignored it.

Then again.

I looked at him.

"You sure you don't need to check?"

"No."

He reached across the table and held my hand.

"Nothing is more important than you."

My heart softened.

"You're being cheesy."

"You're smiling."

"I can't help it."

"Exactly."

His phone vibrated again.

This time, he picked it up.

"Excuse me."

He stood.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside. I need to take this."

I watched him walk away.

He answered the call near the entrance.

I couldn't hear what he was saying.

But I noticed something.

He wasn't smiling anymore.

His back was turned toward me.

His shoulders were tense.

The call lasted less than two minutes.

When he came back, he sat down as if nothing happened.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"Who was it?"

"Work."

I nodded.

"Everything's always work with you."

He laughed.

"Are you complaining?"

"Maybe."

He reached for my hand again.

"I'll make it up to you."

"How?"

"Dinner tonight."

"We're already having lunch."

"Dinner too."

I smiled.

"Okay."

He kissed my hand.

I believed him.

That afternoon, we walked around the city.

He bought me ice cream even though I said I didn't want one.

He knew I would change my mind.

He was right.

While we were walking, my best friend called.

I answered.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"With Daniel."

"Of course you are."

I laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. You two are attached at the hip."

Daniel looked at me.

"Who is it?"

"My friend."

He smiled and continued walking.

My friend lowered her voice.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Have you ever thought Daniel might be too good to be true?"

I stopped walking.

"What kind of question is that?"

"I'm just asking."

"Why?"

"Nothing."

I looked at Daniel.

He was waiting for me a few steps away.

He smiled.

I smiled back.

"He's not too good to be true."

My friend sighed.

"Okay. I just worry about you."

"You don't need to."

"Fine. Enjoy your date."

"I will."

We ended the call.

Daniel walked back toward me.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"What did she want?"

"Nothing."

He studied me.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He smiled.

"Good."

He reached for my hand.

We continued walking.

That night, he dropped me off at home.

Before I got out of the car, he pulled me closer.

"I had a good day."

"So did I."

He smiled.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He kissed me.

Soft.

Familiar.

Safe.

I got out of the car and watched him drive away.

I didn't know that it would be one of the last times I would look at him and feel completely safe.

The next morning, everything was normal.

At least, I thought it was.

I woke up to a message.

Daniel: Good morning, beautiful.

I smiled.

Me: Good morning.

A few seconds later:

Daniel: Busy today?

Me: Not really. Why?

Daniel: Just asking.

I put my phone down.

Then another message arrived.

Daniel: I might be busy tonight.

I frowned.

Me: Work?

There was a longer pause than usual.

Daniel: Yeah.

I stared at the message.

Something about the way he answered felt strange.

But I didn't question it.

Not yet.

That evening, he canceled our dinner.

Daniel: I'm sorry, babe. Work got crazy.

Me: It's okay.

Daniel: I'll make it up to you.

Me: You better.

He sent a heart.

I smiled despite myself.

Then I noticed something.

He had been online for almost an hour after telling me he was too busy to talk.

I stared at the screen.

Maybe he was working.

Maybe he was just checking something.

Maybe I was overthinking.

I locked my phone.

"Don't be stupid."

I told myself.

Daniel loved me.

He had spent three years proving it.

At least, that's what I believed.

The next morning, I woke up beside my phone.

There was another message from him.

Daniel: Sorry about last night. I'll make it up to you today.

I smiled.

I typed:

Me: You better.

Then I put my phone down and got ready for the day.

I had no idea that somewhere between his sweet messages, canceled dates, and mysterious phone calls, something had already started changing.

And I was about to find out that the hardest thing about being cheated on wasn't discovering that someone didn't love you.

It was discovering how easily they could make you believe they did.

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