My husband proposed that my friend and I swap husbands for a week — I thought he was joking until I discovered she was actually willing to do it, so I agreed and decided to teach them both a lesson

“Why?”

She was silent for so long that I thought she had ended the call.

Then she said, “Because I was jealous of you.”

The confession hurt more than I expected.

“Jealous of what?”

“Your life. Your house. Your marriage. Even when you and Sean argued, I thought you had something I would never have with Alex.”

I gripped the counter.

“Nancy, Alex loved you.”

“I know that now.”

“No. You knew it then. You just didn’t appreciate it.”

She began sobbing.

I could have comforted her. For years, that would have been my instinct. I would have tried to soften her pain, explain her behavior, and find some way to preserve our friendship.

But I was tired of carrying other people’s guilt.

“Did you know Sean was using my mother’s money?”

“I knew there was an investment. He told me you had approved it.”

“Did you ever ask me?”