Tracy and Connor broke up

RIA

“We’re breaking up,” Connor said quietly.

At first, I thought I’d misheard him. It was a ridiculous notion, after all—he and Tracy were perfect for each other. I looked over at Shane, who like me had been so caught off guard by this revelation that his mouth was literally hanging open in disbelief.

“You can’t break up!” I stammered. “You’re supposed to get married someday! You guys even caught the bouquet and garter at our wedding!”

Tracy sighed, “Come on, Ria, that’s just a silly old tradition. We talked it over and this is what we want.”

“But it’s bullshit!”

I don’t know why the situation was pissing me off so much, but my blood was boiling. Shane, on the other hand, got unusually quiet. He leaned in and asked, “Is this because of what happened with us?”

Tracy looked guiltily down at the floor.

“A little, I guess. Please don’t take that the wrong way, it’s just—we liked it. I mean, really liked it. And then the next day, when we saw you two up there, taking your vows and everything, it was kind of a wakeup call. Connor and I both realized that we absolutely are NOT ready to go through that ourselves. Settling down, I mean.”

Shane frowned at them both. “You two are in love. The genuine article. That’s not the sort of thing you take for granted. Some people go their whole lives without finding that. There’s got to be a better solution here.”

Connor took Tracy’s hand in his and somberly shook his head. “We talked about this a lot while you guys were away on your honeymoon. This whole ‘long-term monogamy’ thing just doesn’t feel natural to us. Before this, the longest relationship either of us had lasted six months. It’s been two years now, and we want to start seeing other people.”

“But, you’re like the other half of us!” I cried. In spite of myself, my voice choked up and tears started streaming down my cheeks. “This is gonna change everything!”

“No it won’t,” Tracy insisted. “Connor and I are still gonna stay best friends. This won’t change a thing as far as the four of us are concerned. I promise.”

Her promise lasted about seven days.

As much as our friends claimed to be uninterested in frivolous things like love and romance, it was obvious how much it pained them to be around one another after the breakup. They didn’t even really fight, there were just these constant, depressingly awkward silences. We’d all be having fun one minute, like always, but then their eyes would meet and it would suddenly vacuum all the joy out of the room.

Connor moved out of their apartment soon after the breakup. Tracy wound up subletting to a repulsively unpleasant grad student named Deborah, and a week later they both started dating other people. From that point on, it became a Herculean task to coordinate any kind of get together where all four of us would be in one place at the same time.

“The double date that didn’t end,” finally had.

The worst part came when Tracy and Connor tried to forcibly recreate the magic of our old group dynamic—but with new people. They constantly invited us out on double dates with whatever random idiot they were seeing in a given week. It never took, of course—chiefly because neither of our friends ever managed to date a single person who wasn’t an obnoxious, mouth-breathing douche.

Or maybe Shane and I were just biased, longing for things to go back to the way they’d been before.

Then Thanksgiving came and went, with Shane and me awkwardly driving back and forth across town so that we could attend separate dinners with Tracy and Connor. I went to bed crying in my husband’s arms.

“I miss them so much!” I sobbed. “It isn’t fair! For two years, it really felt like we all had a family again, and now it’s gone. Now we just have two… friends.”

“I bet they feel the same way,” Shane said, hugging me close.

“I bet this is how kids feel after their parents get a divorce. It sucks! We’re split in half. And Christmas is gonna suck, even worse.”

“Ria—“

“I just wish we could all spend Christmas together again this year. Them and us. Like how it was. The double date that didn’t end.”

Shane frowned at my tears, and firmly whispered, “We will.”

“What are you talking about? They’re both adults; we can’t **** them to get back together.”

“Well, luckily for us, Christmas is a time for miracles.”

I rolled over in his arms, trying to read his expression.

“You’re not even a little bit religious, Shane. You don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Of course I believe in miracles,” he answered, kissing me tenderly on the lips. “I married one.”