I look at his pictures rapturously. “It’s beautiful,” I exhale, “spectacular but tranquil, a perfect slice of heaven. And you have captured it perfectly. I mean, really, you should exhibit these.”
“You should have been there,” he replies softly.
I should have known that my best friend would not miss the longing in my eyes. That’s the thing I hated and loved about him. He always saw through me.
“You could have been there.” He is almost inaudible now but I hear him.
I run my hand over my distended belly feeling the life within. No. That was never an option.