“I’m getting married!”
The words hung in the air like a sudden thunderclap. I blinked, my mind racing to catch up. “Huh? You were dating?”
“Of course I was, dummy! You know I love being in love,” Chloe replied with a laughter that sparkled with excitement.
Her radiance was unmistakable, and that was the first hint that something was off.
“Is it with that guy named Zane, the one with the silent G? You met him at that three-month yoga retreat in LA, right?” I probed, hoping against hope that it wasn’t him.
“Ew, no! Zane was an absolute jerk,” she snapped, her tone sharp and dismissive.
“Umm, congrats, I guess… but who’s the lucky guy?” I asked, the word ‘unlucky’ hovering in my mind, begging to be voiced.
Chloe beamed as she produced a crisp envelope, a beautiful blend of green and cream adorned with elegant silver calligraphy.
I took the wedding invitation, my heart already heavy with dread as I unfolded it. The words leapt out at me like a slap in the face: “You are cordially invited to the wedding of Chloe Hart and Dean Archer.”
My heart didn’t just sink; it plummeted, a lead weight dropping straight through my stomach and out of my body.
“Dean Archer,” I repeated slowly, letting the name linger on my tongue. “My Dean?”
Chloe snatched the invitation from my trembling fingers, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “MY Dean,” she chirped, her excitement bubbling over. “Isn’t it wild? Everything just… clicked! He came back to New Hope last Christmas, and we reconnected-and boom! Instant chemistry!”
I stared at her, utterly bewildered, as though she were speaking an entirely different language.
Dean Archer was not just any name; he was my college ex. The one who had left me without so much as a proper explanation. The one who had dumped me via a text message on my birthday, shattering my world in an instant.
The ex I had never truly managed to get over.
The one who had known exactly how to tug at my heartstrings and then vanished just when I had begun to trust him again.
“You’re marrying my ex?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of disbelief heavy in the air.
Chloe rolled her eyes dramatically. “Your ex? Was that even a real relationship? That old fling? Come on, sis.”
My throat went dry, the words catching like thorns in my chest.
Chloe stood up from her spot on the couch, stepping toward me as if to embrace me, but then halted abruptly, her nose wrinkling in delicate horror.
“Oh no, I don’t think I can hug you. You’ve got ink on your hands, and I just had this sweater dry-cleaned!”
She was dressed to perfection, sporting a pastel-pink cable-knit sweater over a white satin tank top, paired with pressed cream linen pants and ballet flats that looked like they had never seen a scuff. Her blonde hair was tucked into a flawless low bun, every inch of her radiating effortless grace.
In stark contrast, I stood in the doorway, a chaotic mess in a rumpled button-down shirt, a charcoal skirt that barely grazed my thighs, one heel clinging to my foot for dear life, and black ink smudged across three of my fingers.
I stared at her, speechless, my mind racing to process the whirlwind of emotions.
Chloe took a sip of her wine, eyeing me with concern. “You okay? You look a little pale. Is it the vertigo again? Maybe skip the champagne toast at the wedding. I’d hate for you to go down during the vows. That would be so embarrassing, Sav. Anyway, you’re going to be my maid of honor. Fingers crossed you catch the bouquet. My fiancé has some good-looking friends you could impress.”
I could only stare at her in disbelief.
“I left the office in a panic, broke my freaking stiletto, ran three red lights, battled with drunk drivers, and nearly crashed my Audi just to get home to you, Chloe. You said it was an emergency!”
She paused mid-sip, her eyes widening in realization.
“Oh… I’m sorry! I had no idea. I just thought you were late because you got distracted by a Zara window again.” She giggled, the sound light and airy.
“Nope,” I replied, my tone flat.
“Well, if you did, it would have come in handy now because I’m quite particular about colors, shades, and fabrics,” she continued, her voice animated.
Rolling my eyes, I interjected, “Let me hear it.”
“It’s green. But not just any green… it’s a bit more intense,” she explained, her enthusiasm palpable.
“You mean emerald green?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.
“It’s not just emerald green, okay? God, do I look like someone who wears something off-the-rack? No! It’s more like… if envy and royalty had a scandalous love child. Think deep forest glimmering with silent judgment. Rich. Regal. But also sharp enough to say, ‘Don’t touch me.’ Not teal. Not moss. Not jade. And absolutely not that murky mall-green you find in discount bins where your OOTD comes from. This shade says, ‘Yes, I’ve arrived, and no, I don’t care that you’re staring.’”
My mouth hung open, struggling to comprehend her fervor.
“That’s emerald, Chloe,” I argued, my patience wearing thin.
“No, it’s not! That’s basic! For the fabric? Silk. Rich silk. Can you afford that, Sav? You’re going to be my maid of honor; you have to look presentable enough to play the part. Don’t bring your Walmart thrifts to my event.”
Something snapped within me.
If this is how you want to play, then let’s play, baby sister.
“Can I bring a date?” I shot back, lifting my chin defiantly.
She glanced up from her phone, skepticism etched on her face. “You haven’t had a decent relationship in years. Who could you possibly be bringing?”
I squared my shoulders, determination flooding my veins. “Actually, I’ve got big news to share too… wanted to keep it a secret, but now? Not so much.”
“You got promoted at work?” she guessed, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.
“I’m engaged,” I declared, a triumphant smile spreading across my face.
Chloe choked on her sip, her expression morphing into one of disbelief. “You?”
“Yes, I’m getting married too,” I beamed, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.