When exactly had we become this?
For four years of college, Nigel had been everyone's idea of the perfect boyfriend.
Even on days when he had no classes, he'd walk me to and from mine in the rain, holding the umbrella over my head.
"My Lorraine never remembers to bring an umbrella," he'd say. "So I've got to stay ready."
No matter where we went, he carried a thermos, making sure I always had water at exactly 115 degrees.
"Lorraine says the ideal drinking temperature is 115 degrees," he'd tell people. "You think I'm going to trust some random water fountain to get that right?"
He carried my meal trays, picked my electives, grabbed my packages, saved my seats, tutored me before finals. If it could be done for me, he did it.
His friends joked that the only things left were eating, drinking, and breathing for me.
The year we graduated, couples everywhere were breaking up over long distance.
But he stayed in Seaview City. For me.
"Wherever you are, that's where I'll be. For the rest of my life."
I was so moved that I brought him home to meet my parents.
They didn't approve. Not of him, not of his background.
I fought with them over it. Packed my things and moved out.