Palm Sunday in Paradise

The wedding was three hours away, and Elena was already regretting coming. Destination weddings were like arranged marriages for friendships — forced proximity with people you once loved but had somehow outgrown.

She sat on her balcony, palm fronds swaying in the breeze like half-hearted applause, and swallowed her vitamin D supplement with lukewarm champagne. The bridesmaid group chat had been pinging all morning, but she'd left her iPhone on silent. Some things shouldn't be experienced through a screen.

"There you are."

Julia. Her oldest friend, her college roommate, the woman who had held her hair back during her first breakup and disappeared without a word when Elena's mother died. Julia, standing in the doorway with that same effortless smile, as if three years of silence were just a pause in conversation.

"I thought we could talk," Julia said, stepping onto the balcony. She looked good — rested, glowing, the kind of healthy that money and time could buy.

Elena gestured to the empty chair. "About what?"

"About why you stopped answering my calls." Julia sat, and for a moment, they were just two women in matching bridesmaid dresses, the ocean stretching endlessly behind them. "About why you came to this wedding even though you clearly didn't want to."

Elena laughed bitterly. "Because Sarah asked. Because we're adults now, and we do things we don't want to do for people we're supposed to care about."

"You're still angry."

"I'm not angry, Julia. I'm just... done." Elena's phone buzzed on the table between them, the screen lighting up with another message from the group chat. "I'm 34 years old, and I'm tired of maintaining friendships that stopped serving me years ago."

Julia reached across the table, her palm covering Elena's hand. "I called you every day for six months after your mom died. You never picked up."

The silence between them grew heavy, charged with words unsaid. Elena pulled her hand away.

"I didn't know that," she said finally.

"I didn't tell you." Julia stood up, smoothing her dress. "I just wanted you to know that I didn't disappear. You did."

The wedding ceremony was beautiful. Two people promising forever under an arch of flowers, surrounded by friends who believed — or needed to believe — that some bonds could last. And maybe they could, Elena thought, watching Julia laugh at the reception. Maybe love wasn't about never leaving, but about coming back anyway.

She picked up her iPhone and typed a message: "Can we get coffee when we're back in the city?"

Sometimes the vitamins you needed most were the ones you'd already stopped taking.