Page 19 of The Plus One Contract

Jeremy & Grace

Together with their families, invite you to celebrate their wedding...

I read the words again and again, hoping that maybe I might wake up thirteen again, arguing with Jeremy about who finished the cereal and watching Saturday cartoons in our pajamas.

Jeremy. The floppy-haired kid who sulked when I beat him at Mario Kart, who used to chase me around the house with spiders just to hear me scream, who snuck me into parties when I was too young to go, then complained the entire time as he walked me home after I inevitably drank too much.

Now he's getting married.

Married.

I shake my head, a small smile forming. Even if I haven’t been around lately, one thing I know for certain is that Grace is perfect for him.

She balances him in ways I didn’t think possible. She’s calm to his chaos, quiet strength to his endless energy, and even though I barely know her, I know she makes him happy.

That’s enough for me.

I turn the invitation over, tracing the raised gold lettering with my fingertips, feeling the weight of memories creeping back. The ones I've tried to forget. The ones that remind me why I left home.

The truth is, I wasn’t just taking an incredible job when I moved to New York. I was running.

I told myself I was being practical. That the marketing executive position in the city was an opportunity too good to pass up. But looking back now, I know I was running from Daniel.

From us.

From the life I'd spent years envisioning—the marriage, the house, kids someday. When the job offer came, I jumped without thinking. Without letting guilt or comfort or him pull me back in.

It turned out to be the best decision I ever made.

New York gave me space. It allowed me to build a career and life where I wasn’t just Daniel’s girlfriend anymore. I was me. Confident, respected, and in control of my life.

Somewhere along the way, I met Harper.

Two years later, she's not just my roommate, she's my best friend. She might not have known me since childhood, but she's the closest thing I've ever had to a sister. She supports my reckless choices and calls me on my bullshit. She's the reason I'm here, still standing, even if I do look like death itself.

Going back home now means facing everything I left behind.

It means facing Daniel, facing the looks of pity, and facing the fact that some parts of my past never really went away. They were just patiently waiting for me to return.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for that.

A small breeze from the overhead fan brushes against my skin, loosening my grip, and before I even register what's happening, the invitation slips from my fingers, fluttering to the floor in a slow-motion betrayal.

“Shit,” I mutter, sliding off my stool and crouching down quickly to grab it.

Only, I’m not alone.

Another hand reaches out at the same time, fingertips brushing against mine. My entire body freezes, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, every instinct screaming that something is horribly, horribly wrong.

The sensation feels familiar.

Too familiar.

There’s a prickle at the back of my neck, a hush in the lounge as if the air itself holds its breath. I sense it before I see him.

Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

Nathan.

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