He laughed despite himself.
Then his expression grew serious.
“Thanks for tonight.”
I clapped him on the shoulder.
“Anytime.”
I didn’t know it then, but Michael had noticed something during that dinner.
He had noticed that I no longer automatically agreed with him.
And he had begun to suspect that Karen and I were closer than he wanted us to be.
He would soon use that suspicion against us.
The Night Our Friendship Began to Break
By the fourth month of Karen’s separation, our conversations had changed.
We still talked about the bookstore, Daniel, and the endless complications of divorce proceedings.
But there were moments when silence felt more intimate than conversation.
One Saturday, I helped Karen carry boxes into her new store.
The lease had been signed, the walls painted, and the first shipment of books was due the following week.
She stood in the middle of the empty room, holding a clipboard.
“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
I put down a box.
“Why?”
“Because I’m about to spend my savings on shelves, books, lighting, furniture, and a coffee machine.”
“Sounds like a bookstore.”
She gave me a look.
“You are not helping.”
I walked toward her.
“Look around.”
She did.
Tall windows filled the room with afternoon light. The old hardwood floor had been restored. At the back, she had created a small reading corner with two comfortable chairs and a round table.
“You built this,” I said.
“We built the space.”
“No. I carried boxes. You built the dream.”
She looked at me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she set down the clipboard.
“Can I tell you something without you trying to make it sensible?”
“Probably not, but go ahead.”
She smiled nervously.
“I think about kissing you.”
My breath caught.
Karen continued before I could answer.
“I know how complicated it is. I know Daniel is your best friend. I know people will talk. And I know I need to finish my marriage before I begin anything else.”
I swallowed.
“But I don’t want to spend another year pretending I don’t feel something just because the truth is inconvenient.”
I took a step toward her.
“Karen, I’m twenty-eight.”
“I know.”
“You’ve known me since I was eighteen.”
“I remember.”
“Your son has seen me eat food off the floor.”
“Only because you dropped it.”
“This is a very poor foundation for romance.”
She laughed.
Then she became serious again.
“I am not asking you to promise me anything. I’m asking you to be honest.”
I looked into her eyes.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
Her lips parted.
I continued before I could lose my nerve.
“And I’m terrified of what that means for Daniel. I’m terrified that people will think I’m taking advantage of you. I’m terrified that we’ll get this wrong and lose things we can never get back.”
She nodded.
“I’m afraid of those things too.”
“But I don’t want to pretend the feelings aren’t there.”
“Neither do I.”
For one beautiful, dangerous moment, we stood close enough to kiss.
Then Karen stepped back.
“Not yet.”
I nodded.
“Not yet.”
She smiled sadly.
“When the divorce is final, if you still feel this way, we’ll talk again.”
“And if I do?”
“Then we’ll have a very complicated conversation.”
I laughed.
“I’m looking forward to it already.”
We went back to work.
Neither of us knew that Michael had parked across the street twenty minutes earlier.
He had seen me leave the store carrying a box.
He had seen Karen smile at me through the window.
And he had decided that I was going to become a problem.
A problem he intended to eliminate.
Michael’s Little Plan
Two weeks later, Karen received a letter from Michael’s attorney.
He was challenging the proposed division of their marital assets.
