“I love you too much to be your regret,” she said. “So I will be your memory instead. A good one. A quiet one. One you look back on and smile, not one that makes you hate the world.”
Her answer came two minutes later: “Live your life. Be his friend. Forget me.”
He stared at the message for an hour before replying: “What do you want me to do?”
Dan met Alex, his best friend, the next day at the mall food court. Alex was oblivious, happy, scrolling through his phone while eating a pretzel. “Dude, my mom said you helped her fix the garage light yesterday. Thanks. She’s been weirdly happy lately.” My First Love Is My Friend-s Mom -Final- By Dan...
“No problem,” Dan said, his voice a stranger’s.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But it’s the only thing I’ve ever felt that actually matters.”
He let go.
“You should go,” she said quietly.
“Just tired,” Dan said.
“Listen to me,” she said. “I was married at nineteen. I had Alex at twenty-one. I never got to be young and stupid and free. You still can. If we do this—if we really do this—you will never have that. You will be the boy who loved his friend’s mother. That will be your story. Not doctor. Not artist. Not whatever beautiful thing you are meant to become. Just that.” “I love you too much to be your regret,” she said
I saw your mother crying, Dan thought. I saw her kiss me back. I saw the ghost of the woman she used to be before her husband left her for someone younger.
“I love you,” she whispered. “And that is exactly why I am letting you go.”
Three weeks passed. Dan avoided Alex’s house. He made excuses. Homework. Family dinner. A sudden interest in evening runs. Alex, ever trusting, bought it all. A quiet one
They played for an hour. Normal. Safe. Then Alex’s phone rang. His father—the one who left—was in town and wanted to see him. “Be back in an hour,” Alex said, grabbing his jacket. “Mom, Dan can stay, right?”
Dan’s throat closed. Weirdly happy. Because of him. Because he had shown up with a ladder and a stupid joke about electricians falling in love with their work. Because he had stayed for coffee, and she had laughed—really laughed—for the first time since the divorce was finalized.