Pinching the bridge of his nose, Chandler willed his mind to stop cycling around those thoughts because it didn't matter. It was like two months of his life, and that was it.

He'd get over it. He'd get over her.

His phone lit up again, and he sighed. "I don't know what he could possibly want to say to me."

The recliner squeaked as Paul leaned forward. "I'm curious too. Hello?"

"What are you doing?" he yelled. "Give me that phone."

When he tried to swipe for it, Paul flipped him off. ...