Aarav — his best friend, and my classmate from school. He often came over on Saturdays. They drank beer and talked late into the night. I never once felt jealous.
Until that moment.
“She’s filed for divorce again,” my husband said.
“Divorce?” Aarav’s voice cracked.
“Fifteen years, Aarav. I’ve kept the promise. But I won’t divorce. I gave my word.”
“To whom?”
“To you. And to him.”
There was a long silence.
Then I heard him say, “That night… I still hear the brakes.”
I pressed a hand against the wall to keep from falling.
Secrets Spilled — And a Name From the Past
“Do you love Aarav?”
He looked at me, eyes tired but sincere.
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