My Best Friend Asked Me to Pick Up His Mother at Midnight—Neither of Us Expected What Happened Next

The first time my best friend accused me of betraying him, he was standing in my apartment with tears in his eyes and a fist clenched at his side.

“Tell me you haven’t fallen in love with my mother,” Daniel Mercer said.

I looked at the man who had been my closest friend for ten years.

I could have lied.

I could have told him he was being ridiculous, that I was still the same Alex who had eaten cereal at his kitchen table, watched football on his father’s expensive television, and spent countless weekends at his house without ever imagining that his life would one day become tangled with mine in a way neither of us could undo.

Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, “I have.”

Daniel took a step backward.