Peter stubbed his cigarette out on the rim of the trash can.
He patted my shoulder, turned, and walked back into the hospital room.
The door didn't close all the way. A sliver of light cut through the gap.
I didn't look inside.
About twenty minutes later, Peter came out supporting Kirsten.
She saw me, and something shifted in her expression.
It wasn't the kind of shift from a smile to no smile. It was something more complicated than that, harder to name.
Part awkwardness, part guilt.
But she collected herself quickly.
What replaced it was a wall of cold.
"I'll drive you two home," I offered.
Kirsten didn't look at me. She gave a small nod.
She was leaning her entire weight against Peter, one hand gripping his arm, knuckles white.
Like if she let go, he'd vanish.
Like if she loosened her fingers even slightly, he'd disappear.
At the car, I pulled open the rear door for them.
Kirsten pressed close to Peter in the backseat, practically molded against him.
I started the engine. The air conditioning blew cool against my face.
In the rearview mirror, I could see the two of them.
Peter sat a little stiffly, clearly not used to that kind of closeness, but he didn't pull away.
Kirsten had her eyes closed, her lashes trembling faintly.
The car rolled on for a while before stopping at a red light.
I glanced at the rearview mirror without thinking and found Kirsten's eyes open.
Our gazes collided in the glass.
She looked away fast, burying her face in the curve of Peter's shoulder.
Like a thief caught in the act.
In the days that followed, the two of them made it official.
Peter was the sentimental type. The three of us had grown up together, and now that he and Kirsten were a couple, he felt even more strongly that he shouldn't leave me behind.
"Marlin, come grab dinner with us. It's been forever since the three of us hung out."
"The weather's great today. Get out of the house for a bit."
I made excuses every time. Said I was busy.
After a while, he stopped asking.
But I still saw them on social media.
Kirsten had never been one to post much. After she got together with Peter, she became a different person.
One photo was of the two of them at an amusement park.
They stood in front of a Ferris wheel, Peter's arm slung over her shoulder, Kirsten flashing a peace sign.
I knew that place.
In my past life, I'd suggested it more times than I could count. Let's go to the amusement park, I'd say.