For several precious days, I felt something I hadn’t experienced since Robert’s passing.
Peace.
But on the final afternoon, Susan’s behavior changed.
We were relaxing beneath a beach umbrella while the waves rolled gently onto the sand.
She’d barely spoken for almost an hour.
Every few minutes, she’d glance at me and quickly look away.
At first, I assumed she was tired.
Then she suddenly reached toward me.
“Can I borrow your phone?”
I smiled.
“Sure. What for?”
“I want us to take one final photograph together.”
I laughed.
“Final? Susan, we’re not exactly saying goodbye forever.”
Normally, she would have laughed with me.
Instead, she slowly removed her sunglasses.
Her face was unusually serious.
“Susan?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“I mean our last picture as best friends.”
My smile disappeared.
“That’s a strange thing to say. Are you planning to move away?”
