This isn't weird.

Scout's Honor

Millie was thoroughly unavailable to Ben for the rest of the week, and he didn't see her again until the following Wednesday, when they finally resumed their usual bagel ritual. She was absolutely glowing as she caught him up on the new developments in her love life, and pretended his hardest to be happy for her, which became wildly difficult when she revealed that this sudden change was entirely his fault.

"I don't know what you said to her at the party," she said, reaching across the table to take his hand, "but whatever it was, you really got through to her. She asked me to thank you for helping her realize what we have." She gave his hand a tight squeeze. "You didn't have to do that for me, Ben. You are such an amazing friend."

He had never known he was capable of such intense regret.

The following months were exceptionally joyful ones for Millie. Her newfound confidence in her relationship seemed to translate into every aspect of her life, and it had grown increasingly rare to see her without a smile. Ben hated himself for how much it bothered him to see how magnetic her sunny disposition had become to the people around her. Nearly every time they were out in public together, they would be interrupted at least once by some stranger hoping to introduce themselves or ask for her number.

"Oh my gosh, that's so sweet, but I'm in a very happy relationship," she would say, and the way she smiled as she said the word very made Ben feel like a cinder block had been dropped on his chest.

Sometimes they would look at Ben and mumble an awkward apology, and Millie would laugh and explain, "Oh, not with him. We're just friends," and the cinder block would grow heavier.

But then she would turn back to him, and her undivided attention would be his once again. Any time they were together, she seemed to forget that anyone else in the world existed. She had always been that way with him, but the amount of attention she was now attracting had made him hyper aware of it. It made him feel giddy, and sometimes even a little smug, how obvious she made it to everyone around them that she preferred his company to theirs.

Well, except for Genevieve, of course.

But Genevieve was frequently busy, holed up in her studio or flitting about the country, attending gallery openings and making the rounds at galas and art auctions. Millie no longer felt insecure about their time apart, and usually preferred staying home over attending formal events, which left her with a great deal of time to spend with her officially platonic best friend.

"As your friend, I feel like I should discourage you from this kind of self-destructive behavior," Indigo once told him, in his usual condescending monotone, as he filmed Ben painstakingly styling his hair in anticipation of Millie coming over to watch TV. "But as an artist, please, never stop."

"How am I being self-destructive?" Ben asked as he struggled to force a stubborn curl into submission.

Indigo raised an eyebrow. "You mean, aside from devoting your every spare moment to a woman who is enthusiastically committed to someone else?"

"I've told you before, it's not like that!" Ben exclaimed, exasperated. "Sure, yeah, I used to have a little crush on her, but that's over. We're just friends, and we like hanging out together. That's like, the opposite of self-destructive."

When he was finally finished with his hair, he changed his shirt. Twice. Millie came over wearing pajamas.

It was just too easy to spend time with her. She always said yes. She always seemed excited. She replied to all of his texts and answered all of his calls. When she wasn't with Genevieve, any time he wanted her attention, she was delighted to give it to him. And he always wanted her attention, more now than ever.