H is phone rang while we were lying in bed, a small, jarring sound in the quiet of the room. I saw the name light up on the screen and for a second, I froze. Not because he did anything wrong, but because every man before him did. I’ve seen guys snatch their phone like it was a lifeline, flip it face down, step out for a "work call," and lie straight-faced while texts kept coming in nonstop. My body was trained to tense up, to brace for the inevitable lie, the sudden coldness, the quiet betrayal. But when I looked at him, he didn’t even flinch. He just smiled, a gentle, knowing smile, and calmly said, "Pick it up. I don't hide anything." I didn't even know how to process it. The words hung in the air, so simple and yet so monumental. My hand hovered over the phone, my mind running through a checklist of what a woman in my shoes was supposed to do. Was this a test? Was he waiting for me to find something? My past had taught me to b...