What the Mirrors Keep
by Erin Cole
It all started on the night of the housewarming pocket option dinner, when my best friend Ted and his wife Sarah had come over for dinner to see our new house. It was the cusp of normal times , when relationships were healthy and friendships were strong, but something dark had pervaded Ted’s thoughts that night, and it muted him for most of the evening.
He drew me outside to the deck for a drink, likely intending to tell me about it.
“House looks great,” he said. “Classic, although I pegged you as being more modern.” I had never known Ted to care about home décor.
“What’s up with you?” I said. “You’ve barely spoken a word tonight.”
Ted clinked the ice in his drink and spoke pocket corretora in a deep, husky voice. His serious voice.
“Tell me, Paul, are you happy? I mean, really happy?”
Ted had always been at odds with Janelle. She was different from other woman: quiet, graceful, keenly ambitious, didn’t like the word no. Ted had confronted me once, saying that love didn’t pull you away from others; it was supposed to bring you closer to them. I’d always thought he was jealous, and it was never more obvious than that night.