Instead I felt something quieter.
Distance.
Not total.
Not cruel.
But real.
I looked back at Mike.
He noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Leo was still arguing about golf.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
I almost believed Chloe would leave it alone.
Then a shadow fell across the table.
Mike stopped speaking.
I looked up.
Chloe stood beside the booth.
Sarah remained near the bar.
“Hi.”
Her voice was small.
I nodded.
“Hi, Chloe.”
“You look good.”
“Thank you.”
She waited.
I understood she expected the reciprocal compliment.
I did not intentionally withhold one.
I simply had nothing to add.
“How are you?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Not great.”
“I’m sorry.”
Those words surprised her.
They were sincere.
I did not want her suffering.
I simply no longer believed her suffering was mine to solve.
She shifted her weight.
“Can we talk?”
Mike immediately started sliding toward the end of the booth.
I stopped him with my hand.
“It’s okay.”
Chloe noticed.
That seemed to hurt.
Once, she could have asked and I would have followed her outside without hesitation.
Now I did not believe privacy was necessary.
She looked at Mike and Leo.
Then back at me.
“I miss you.”
Neither friend moved.
I said nothing.
“What I did was stupid.”
“I know.”
“I know you know.”
She gave a nervous half laugh.
“I’m making this worse.”
“Probably.”
For the first time, something like the old Chloe appeared.
A tiny smile.
Then it vanished.
“I meant what I wrote.”
“I know.”
“You read it?”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“I read it.”
She swallowed.
“Why didn’t you answer?”
I considered lying politely.
Instead I gave her the truth.
“Because there wasn’t anything left to solve.”
Her eyes shone.
“There could be.”
“No.”
“Mark—”
“No.”
Not cruelly.
Simply clearly.
She looked down.
“I’m different.”
“I hope so.”
“I mean it.”
“I believe you.”