The Origami Crane Between Us

I was holding the invitation to my best friend’s art opening when I saw the nameplate right

next to mine: Ethan. My heart dropped. We hadn’t spoken since he walked out three years

ago, leaving nothing but his keys on the counter. Now,

I was trapped at a formal dinner table with him for the next two hours. "Hey," he said as

I sat down, using that same lopsided grin like he’d been gone five minutes instead

of three years. Because it was a sit-down dinner for the artist, I couldn't leave

without making a scene. We were forced into that excruciating small talk about

jobs and mutual friends, while the real questions screamed in the silence between