The actual announcement came on a Thursday evening. I had finished work late, stopped for groceries, and was putting a carton of milk into the refrigerator when Lauren mentioned that she and Chris were planning to go out of state together. She spoke as casually as if she were telling me the dry cleaner had changed its hours. Three or four nights, she said, depending on flights, probably before the wedding planning became too hectic. Just the two of them, because the original group apparently couldn't coordinate schedules.
I shut the refrigerator and asked her to repeat the last part. "Just us," she said, scrolling on her phone. "It'll be fun. We haven't done a proper trip together in ages." I asked whether they were sharing accommodations, and she said they hadn't decided yet. Then she looked up at me and asked why I was being so quiet, as though the silence itself required an explanation.
"I'm not comfortable with that trip," I said. "I don't think traveling alone with Chris for several nights is something I'm okay with in an engagement." My voice was steady, and I remember deliberately keeping my hands resting on the counter instead of gesturing. I told her I wasn't accusing her of having an affair, wasn't asking her to end a friendship, and wasn't claiming the right to decide where she could go. I was telling her something about what I needed from a marriage and asking her to take it seriously.
She watched me for a second, then gave a small smile I couldn't read. "Okay," she said. "We'll talk about it later." She picked up her glass of water and carried it upstairs without another question. I remained in the kitchen, listening to her footsteps disappear, wondering whether I should follow her or leave the conversation alone until we were both rested.
I finished putting away the groceries. I cooked dinner, carried a plate upstairs, and found the bedroom door shut. She told me through it that she wasn't hungry and needed some space. I left the plate outside and went downstairs to eat alone at the table where our wedding seating chart was still open. When I checked later, the plate was gone, but Lauren stayed in the bedroom for the rest of the night.
I went to bed in the guest room, an arrangement we had used only a handful of times in almost four years. The mattress was slightly firmer than ours, and the room smelled faintly of cardboard because half the closet held wedding decorations. I stared at