“I brought you into this house because I thought you were family.”

Lauren's voice cracked on the last word.

I wanted to tell her I still was. Instead I sat there clutching her father's bedsheet, which made a pretty convincing argument against me.

“Get dressed,” Lauren said.

“Lauren, please.”

“I spent all week trying to cheer you up over Daniel,” Lauren said. “Was this your recovery plan?”

Richard reached for his shirt. “Lauren, that's enough.”

Lauren stared at him. “Are you seriously defending her right now?”

“I'm asking you not to humiliate her.”

“Oh, sorry. Wouldn't want your girlfriend to feel uncomfortable.”

“Lauren—” I tried.

“Don't,” she snapped.

She slammed the door.

I scrambled for my clothes.

Richard handed me my sweater. “I'll talk to her.”

“Please don't make it worse.”

He looked at the door. “I think we're past that.”

Downstairs, Lauren was packing a bag. I followed Richard.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Jess's.”

“This is your home.”

“Then ask her to.”

“I'm leaving,” I said.

Lauren laughed, a horrible little sound. “Look at us. Everybody being so considerate.”

“I'm sorry,” I told her. “I knew you were away. I came anyway.”

“I know you did. That's the part I can't get out of my head.”

Richard stepped closer. “I made that choice too.”

“No one's pretending you didn't, Dad.” She zipped the bag. “But you didn't spend ten years being my best friend.”

I had no answer.

Lauren walked out. Richard called after her. She didn't stop.

At home, I scrolled past a photo from Lauren's birthday last month, her cheek pressed against mine.

I texted, I'm sorry. Can we talk?

She didn't reply.

The next afternoon someone knocked at my apartment.

It was Lauren. I was almost relieved.

“Can I have my house key?” she asked.

I'd carried it since college, when Lauren gave it to me after I got stranded outside in a storm.

I unhooked it. “I didn't use it last night.”

“That's not the point.”

“I know.” She didn't take it.

“Did you make fun of me afterward?”

“What?”

“When you were in bed with him. Did you laugh about how stupid I was for not noticing?”

“Lauren, no.”

“Because I remember you asking whether he'd be home last week. And the two of you giggling in the kitchen. I thought I was being paranoid.”

“You weren't stupid. We hadn't done anything then.”

She recoiled. “Oh, well, that's a relief.”

Every answer I gave seemed to make it worse.

“I never set out to hurt you.”

“But you planned to go over there while I was gone. Don't pretend you accidentally fell into his bed.”

“I haven't pretended that.”

“Then why are you acting like this just happened to you?”

“Because I don't know how to fix it!” I shouted. “I'm admitting what I did!”

Lauren's eyes shone. “If I were about to do something this stupid, you would've been the first person I called.”

“I know.”

“No. I don't think you do.” She finally took the key. “Don't call me again.”

“Lauren—”

“I'm serious, Natalie. We're done.”

She left.

Richard called that evening.

“She won't speak to me,” he said. “She told me I could have the whole house to myself.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop saying that like you did this alone.”

“Maybe we should stop seeing each other,” I said.

“Is that what you want?” Richard asked.

“No. Obviously not.”

“Then why are you saying it?”

“I don't want to erase last night,” Richard added.

“And I don't want to lose my best friend. We don't always get what we want.”

“She's your daughter. She'll still be your daughter after this. She just took her key back from me.”

“I know what she means to you.”

“Do you? Because you get to be her dad no matter how angry she is. I don't get to be her friend anymore.”

“I don't want to pretend last night meant nothing.”

“Neither do I.”

“Then tell me what you want me to do.”

I looked at the empty space on my key ring.

“I don't know.”

Neither of us hung up for a long time.

Some arguments hurt more because you can't really defend yourself. Could you forgive Natalie if you were Lauren? Do you think Richard should have handled things differently? Tell us where you stand in the comments.