Chapter 22: The Invitation

The invitation arrived in a cream envelope with my mother's handwriting.

My cousin Natalie was getting married.

For several seconds, I stared at the card without opening it.

Weddings no longer made me sick.

But they still carried echoes.

The venue calls.

The contracts.

My deleted name.

I opened the envelope.

Natalie's wedding would be held in my hometown in June.

My mother called that evening.

“You don't have to come if it's uncomfortable.”

“I want to come.”

She paused.

“Really?”

“Really.”

I was tired of letting one stolen wedding own the entire concept.

Adrian came with me.

It was his first time meeting most of my extended family, which meant my mother spent forty-five minutes pretending not to interrogate him.

He survived.

The ceremony was held outdoors beneath oak trees.

When Natalie walked down the aisle, I expected some old pain to surface.

Instead, I cried because she looked happy.

Simple as that.

At the reception, my father danced badly.

My mother danced worse.

Adrian was somehow worse than both of them.

I laughed until my face hurt.

Then I saw Luke.

He stood near the far side of the room.

For one moment, everything around me seemed to quiet.

He wasn't invited as my former fiancé.

Natalie's husband had known him socially for years.

I should have anticipated it.

Luke saw me.

Then he saw Adrian.

His expression changed only slightly.

He didn't approach.

I appreciated that.

An hour later, we crossed paths near the bar.

“Hi,” Luke said.

“Hi.”

He nodded toward Adrian, who was talking to my father.

“He seems nice.”

“He is.”

Luke looked down at his glass.

“I'm glad.”

I believed him.

That surprised me.

“How are you?” I asked.

It was the first question I had asked him about himself in a very long time.

“Better.”

He smiled faintly.

“Still in therapy. Still working. Smaller apartment. I can tell you exactly when my car insurance renews now.”

I laughed before I could stop myself.

Luke laughed too.

For one brief moment, we sounded like the people we had once been.

Then the moment passed.

“I'm sorry about what I did to you,” he said.

“I know.”

“I won't keep saying it.”

“Thank you.”

He glanced toward the dance floor.

“You look happy.”

I followed his gaze to Adrian.

“I am.”

Luke nodded.

“Good.”

Then he walked away.

No plea.

No request.

No attempt to pull me backward.

That was perhaps the first truly respectful thing he had given me since our relationship ended.

Adrian returned carrying two drinks.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

He didn't ask for details.

We went back to the dance floor.

Later, Natalie threw the bouquet.

I deliberately stepped aside.

Priya, who had flown in for the wedding, caught it directly in the face.

The photograph became my favorite picture of the entire night.

On the flight back to Denver, Adrian fell asleep against the window.

I looked at his hand resting between us.

I didn't know whether we would marry.

I didn't know whether we would be together in five years.

For once, uncertainty didn't feel like danger.

I didn't need guarantees before allowing myself to be happy.

The future wasn't a wedding plan.

It was something you built while living it.

And this time, every choice had my name on it.