I never worried about my wife’s male best friend. That was my first mistake.
I kept telling my wife I was okay with her best friend being a man. That was until he came over one night, and I left them alone for two minutes. I couldn't believe what I saw. I always told my wife I was fine with her best friend being a man. I even convinced myself it was true.She have known him since college, long before I was ever in the picture. They were close, the kind of close where insid jokes needed no explanation and hug lasted a second too long. Still, I never said a word. I loved her. I trusted her.That night, he came over for dinner. It wasn't the first time. He brought wine, the fancy kind-and took off his shoes at the door like he owned the place. They talked and t laughed like no time had passed, and I played the part of the supportive husband, smiling, nodding, sipping my drink. But something felt off. Not obvious, just enough to make the back of my neck prickle. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when he complimented her, or how he leaned in too close when he spoke to her, these little things, small enough to ignore. At one point, I excused myself to take a call. Just two minutes or maybe less. The hallway was quiet, but the conversation in the living room died the moment I stepped away.Something told me not to answer the call. I hung up and without speaking and walked back, slower this time. And that's when I saw it. They didn't see me. Not at first. I stood just behind the wall the edge of the s kitchen in my peripheral. I wasn't eavesdropping not really. I wasn't expecting anything. He had his hand on hers. That was the first thing I noticed. Nothing dramatic just fingertips, resting lightly like he did done it a thousand times before. She didn't pull away. He said something-low, too soft for me to hear. She smiled, then laughed in that quiet way she only does when she's nervous. I knew that laugh. I knew it because I have seen it once before years ago when she was still deciding if she loved me back.My chest went tightened.Not rage. Not sadness. Just cold.
Heavy. Then he leaned in. Not a kiss. Not quite.
But his face was close far too close And she didn't move. She just stared at him like they were the only two people in the world. Then came the kiss. I stepped forward. The floor creaked. Her eyes snapped to mine. Everything changed in an instant, the warmth in her expression
evaporated, replaced with guilt. He leaned back, quick. Too quick. Neither of them said a word. And that was when I realized; it wasn't about what had happened in those two minutes or less as this wasn't the beginning it was just the first time I saw it.
