For several precious days I felt something I hadn't experienced since Robert's death.
Peace.
But on the last afternoon, Susan's behavior changed.
We were resting under an umbrella as the waves gently reached the sand.
He had gone almost an hour without saying practically anything.
Every few minutes he would look at me and then immediately look away.
At first I thought she was tired.
Then, suddenly, he reached out his hand towards me.
—Can I borrow your phone?
I smiled.
—Sure. Why?
—I want us to take one last picture together.
I laughed.
—The last one? Susan, it's not like we're saying goodbye forever.
He would normally have laughed with me.
But this time he slowly took off his sunglasses.
His face was unusually serious.
—Susan?
He looked me straight in the eyes.
—I'm referring to our last photograph as best friends.
My smile disappeared.
—That's a strange thing to say. Are you thinking of moving?
He did not respond.
