It hurt, talking with Millie like this. Acquaintances. Former friends. Mitch eyed me suspiciously the whole conversation.

Missing her caused an ache to spread through me. So many years had passed. An ocean separating us. And yet, I wasn’t ready to let her go completely. I needed to. I knew that. Dan and I were talking about having children. Buying a house. Grown-up things.

Millie wasn’t part of that equation.

She was simply a portion of my past. A small blip in my history. But even as I thought that, I knew it wasn’t true. She’d been a huge part of my existence. Had shaped me. Turned me into the person I was. And yeah, maybe I’d made it larger in my mind—what we had, what we’d been to each other—but maybe that’s because I’d never had closure.

We’d been so close and then in one fell swoop we’d been cut from each other’s lives. I thought what we needed was one more night together. One last hurrah if you will.

So that night, while Dan slept soundly in my childhood bedroom at my parents’ house, I snuck out and went to Millie’s. I’d been shocked to find out when we spoke at the mall that she lived with Mitch in the same exact apartment he’d once shared with Greg. How had Millie’s life stayed frozen in time, when mine had blasted full speed ahead? Dan was the soundest sleeper I’d ever met. And he never got up in the night, so I wasn’t worried about getting caught. As long as I got home by early morning, he’d never find out.

When I arrived at the apartment, I was glad to see it didn’t look at all like I’d remembered. Millie had added her own touches. A floral painting here and there. Family portraits. Fresh flowers on the end table. A pink throw blanket on the couch. The most distinct difference, though, was that it was clean. Smelled feminine.

Mitch wasn’t happy to see me, but Millie was. For a little while he hung out with us, a brooding, dark shadow in the corner, just like old times. But thankfully, he finally went to bed, and Millie and I sat up all night talking in her living room. She poured us cheap vodka and I puffed on a couple of cigarettes even though it had been ages since I’d had one. It was like old times. Even down to how guarded she was. I knew she had to be careful about what she said. Mitch could be listening to every word. I was careful, too, with the questions I asked.

When I left, I honestly thought that would be the last time I saw her. I held her tight, whispered in her ear. Something about how if she ever needed me, I’d be there.