It's been years since we had all been in one place. College reunion never really worked out. Each of us had all gotten occupied with one thing or the other; like family and work. Daniel, Anna, Clara and I had all agreed to spend a couple of days together, just like the good old times.
On the first evening after dinner, we sat together on the deck.
“So,” Clara said, raising up her glass, “To old friends and new memories.”
We clinked glasses. We began talking about work, kids, how adulthood had changed our lives. But beneath all this talk, I could sense there was something we all were trying to avoid to talk about.
When the plates were cleared and bottle were empty, Daniel said, “Crazy, isn't it? How fast ten years go.”
“Faster when you were trying to forget half of it,” Anna murmured.
“What do you mean by that,” Clara asked.
“Nothing—just old memories,” replied Anna.
That we all could tell that there was a lot more to that.
The next morning, we were taking a walk. Daniel walked ahead with Anna, while Clara and I walked behind.
“You've noticed it too, haven't you?” Clara said quietly.
“What?” I asked, though I already knew.
“The way the look at each other.”
Anna had been careful—always careful—but being here, with the four of us together, it was difficult to hide. Back in school, before she and I had become serious, before Clara had entered Daniel's life, there had been a spark between them. A kiss at a party. Late night talks took a bit longer than usual. Nothing they claimed was “serious,” but it was hard to get off the mind.
We had all chosen to overlooked it. To move on. Until now.
Later that night, we sat on the rug in the middle of the living room as we shared a bottle of wine. Daniel finally spoke.
“Alright,” he said. “Are we all to pretend we don't feel it? Like there isn't an elephant in the room?”
Clara put down her glass of wine. “Finally. Thank you.”
At this point, I could tell our evening was about to take a new turn.
“Anna,” Daniel said, looking straight into her eyes, “don't.”
Clara turned to me. “And you—you knew, didn't you?”
I open my mouth and tried to say something but the words refused to come out. Because yes—I had known. For years I had chosen to bury it, to build a life with Anna, hoping the past would stay where it belonged.
It was now Anna finally spoke. “It was a long time ago. Before any of this mattered. I love —” She stopped and looked at me. “I chose this life. With him.”
But the way Daniel looked at her seemed to be telling a different story.
No one slept that night. I lay awake throughout, wondering if I'd been fooling myself all these years.
The next morning we gathered for coffee. But this time it was a lot quieter than before. Clara sat with her hands firmly gripped to her mug.
“I don't think I can seat here and pretend to not see you two exchange glances,” she said. “I deserve better than that.”
Daniel didn't argue. He just stared out through the window like there was something going on outside.
By the time we packed up on Sunday, the house wasn't really the same way it was when we arrived. We casually hugged goodbye, but it felt odd.
Anna sat quietly as we drove away, with a remorseful expression on her face.
“I am sorry,” she said quietly. “For all of it.”
I held the wheels tighter. “Sorry doesn't erase what's there.”
She didn't respond, neither did I. We just kept our thoughts to ourselves till we made it to our destination.
Looking back now, I wonder if the weekend was a mistake—or maybe it was necessary. Sometimes we bury things so deep we convince ourselves they are gone. But time, distance, even love—none of it erases the past.
It waits. And when it resurfaces, it demands to be faced.
The vacation didn't destroy us,not entirely. But it reminded us that relationships are not just built on the present—they are built on everything that came before.
