I watched him stare out across the yard, through the pines, the lights of Sid’s backyard visible in the approaching dusk.

“It’s nice here,” he said. “Peaceful.”

“Can I ask you something?”

He turned toward me, accidentally elbowing the blinds and causing another little commotion. When he grabbed for them to stop them from clanging, it only made them clang more. Once they settled down, he raised his eyes in anticipation of my question.

“How much do you know about me and October. What did she tell you?”

“As soon as we realized you were gone, we had a long conversation about it. I believe I was given the relevant details. Nothing more, nothing less, if you know what I mean.”

He came back over and sat down, and this time he relaxed into the chair. “I saw her on Friday.”

My heart dropped. It was Sunday. He’d seen her two days ago. “Where?”

“San Francisco. I had a meeting in Cupertino, and we met up for dinner in the city later that night.”

I immediately felt anxious. “You two still talk? You hang out?”

“We do now. Took a while.” He gave me one of those subtle-but-swaggering Cal shrugs. “The truth is, she was right. We didn’t belong together. She’d known it for a while, and once I realized it, we were able to become friends again. She’s actually the one who introduced me to Nicole, my fiancée.”

“You’re getting married?” Either I’d been slacking in the online stalking department or this news hadn’t yet hit the internet. “Congratulations, man.”

He smiled wholly for the first time since he’d arrived. “Gonna do it right this time. No more messing around. This one’s the real deal.”

“I couldn’t be happier for you. I mean it.”

“See, this is thing about being happy, Harp. It really puts the past into perspective.” Cal moved to the edge of the chair and leaned in toward me. “I mean there I was, sitting at a quiet little table in Octavia with October, and we’re sharing this incredible dish of crab pappardelle, and we’re talking about my wedding, and the big performance she has coming up, and it dawned on me that I have absolutely no hard feelings toward her anymore. None. Now, if you would have told me on the day she and I broke up that I would one day be able to sit across from her and share pasta, I would have bet you a lot of money otherwise.”

I noticed the buttons on Cal’s shirt were shiny, pearlescent snaps. The fanciest Western shirt I’d ever seen.

“During dessert something else occurred to me. I had a realization. And I looked at October and said, ‘You know what? If I can forgive you, I should be able to forgive him too, right?’”

My anxiety morphed into alarm. “You spoke to her about me?”

“I’m going to be straight with you. She wasn’t too thrilled about that. As soon as I mentioned you, she clammed up and stared at her crème brûlée. So, I said, ‘You don’t think I should forgive him?’ and she said, ‘Chris, I know how much he means to you, and I think you should do whatever feels right. I just don’t want to talk about him.’”