"And?"
"I told him wondering doesn't mean anything."
"Did you tell him you're happy with me?"
Another pause.
"Nathan."
"Did you?"
"Of course."
That answer arrived too late.
Three weeks later came the trip.
We were brushing our teeth before bed.
Claire was wearing an old university shirt.
Milo lay stretched across the bedroom rug.
I remember how ordinary everything looked.
She spit into the sink, rinsed, then said:
"Julian asked me something."
I kept brushing.
"What?"
"He's struggling."
"So you've mentioned."
"He thinks he needs some distance from everything."
I looked at her in the mirror.
"What does that have to do with you?"
She hesitated.
"He wants to go up to Pine Lake."
The name meant nothing for half a second.
Then I remembered.
Pine Lake was where Claire and Julian used to vacation when they were dating.
A mountain town west of Denver.
Small cabins.
Hiking.
Kayaks in summer.
She had shown me old photographs years earlier.
Claire sitting beside a campfire at twenty-four.
Julian behind her with his arms around her waist.
I stopped brushing.
"He wants to take you to Pine Lake."
"He wants me to come."
My toothbrush remained in my hand.
"For what?"
"Closure."
I actually laughed.
One short sound.
"You cannot be serious."
She turned.
"See? This is why I didn't know how to bring it up."
"Because it's insane?"
"Because you refuse to hear anything once you decide how it sounds."
"Claire, your ex-boyfriend, who is currently divorcing his wife, wants to take my wife to the romantic place where they used to vacation together."
"When you say it like that—"
"How else should I say it?"
She put her toothbrush down.
"He wants to process things."
"For two hours?"
"A weekend."
I stared.
"How long?"
She looked at the counter.
"Possibly longer."
"Claire."
"A week."
"Possibly two."
I genuinely thought I had misheard.
"Two weeks."
"He has time between moving out and starting a new project."
"And you have vacation days."
"Yes."
"You discussed the schedule already."
"We discussed possibilities."
"So you've been planning this before talking to me."
"No."
"Claire."
"We talked about dates."
"That is planning."
She walked into the bedroom.
I followed.
Milo lifted his head.
Claire sat on the edge of the mattress.
"I need this."
That sentence changed the argument.
Not:
He needs this.
I need this.
"Why?"
"Because talking to him has brought up things I never processed."
"About him?"
"About myself."
"What things?"
"I don't know."
"That's what I'm trying to understand."
She rubbed her hands together.
"How our relationship ended."
"Why I chose the life I chose."
"Whether I made decisions because I wanted them or because they were safe."
I felt something cold move through me.
"Safe."
"Nathan, don't."