—What's going to happen tomorrow?
He swallowed.
—Tomorrow you will discover something about who I have really been all these years.
I shook my head.
—What are you talking about?
—And when you find out —she continued, her voice trembling—, I'm afraid you won't want to see me ever again.
For a moment I couldn't speak.
That was the woman who knew everything about me.
My childhood fears.
My marriage.
My happiest memories.
My deepest regrets.
He had shared countless dinners with Robert and me.
She had always been welcome in our home.
And after my husband's death, she had become the person I depended on the most.
However, now she was sitting next to me, talking as if our entire friendship had been built around something I knew nothing about.
—Susan —I whispered—, what have you done?
She wiped a tear from her cheek.
—I can't explain everything to you tonight.
-Why not?
—Because you'll understand tomorrow.
I looked at the phone that was on the beach towel, between us.
