The feelings that have been cherished for many years can change all of a sudden.

My boyfriend's employee hit me with my boyfriend's car. To make matters worse, we ended up in the same ER. I had a hairline fracture in my left shin, and she had a minor forehead abrasion from hitting the steering wheel.

Even through the curtain, I could hear her whiny voice, "Ethan, could you come over here and sit with me? I'm so scared being alone in the hospital after the accident..." My boyfriend started by comforting her, then turned to berating me, the victim.

"People these days walk around staring at their phones, completely oblivious. Besides, she's not dead, right? Just pay her medical bills. If she tries to extort you, I'll help you fight it in court."

1.

Back in the ER, the doctor confirmed a hairline fracture in my left shin. No full break, but I needed a cast for two weeks and then physical therapy. As I hobbled back to the treatment room with my payment slip to get the cast, I heard a sweet, almost babyish, voice: "I was driving so slowly, just inching forward in the parking lot. I don't know why she just darted out..." I listened to her half-hearted, almost flirtatious sobbing as I sat on the exam table, waiting for the doctor.

"Thank God it was just a scratch. I was terrified when I got the call," a warm, familiar male voice responded. "People these days walk around staring at their phones, completely oblivious. Besides, she's not dead, right? Just pay her medical bills. If she tries to extort you, I'll help you fight it in court."

That was Ethan, my boyfriend of seven years, the voice I heard every day. The person he was referring to as "phone-obsessed," "not dead," and a potential extortionist was me. And the girl who hit me, now whining to him like a baby, was Chloe, a colleague from his project team. As for why I was there in the first place, it was my birthday, and our seventh anniversary. I wanted to surprise him, to celebrate with him, and to give him a gift.

2.

I found out about Chloe last month. Ethan and I work in different parts of the city. It takes two hours by subway, almost as long by car, so we only saw each other about once a week. He has a two-bedroom apartment near his work, and I usually went over there on weekends.

That particular weekend, we were watching a movie, snuggled on the couch. Around midnight, I wanted some popcorn, so Ethan went downstairs to the convenience store. He grabbed my phone by mistake. We have the same phone, the same lock screen password, even the same payment password – 1017, our anniversary. So I wasn't worried.

His phone lit up on the coffee table. It was a text message.

"FluffyBunny: Did you finish that movie? Waiting to hear all about it! Hehe."

I stared at the message. The movie, which I'd been enjoying just moments before, suddenly seemed dull. I tried to unlock his phone, but the password was different.

He came back with the popcorn. I didn't hide anything, just showed him the phone. He froze for a second. "Oh, a colleague told me it's not safe to use birthdays or ...