Chapter 3: Teasing and Tension

The bride came up behind me, patting my shoulder and breaking my train of thought. “Natalie, you finally made it! Busy woman, when are you going to invite me to your own wedding?”

Her tone was teasing, but it only made me feel more uneasy. My cheeks burned. I laughed, but it sounded thin, almost brittle. Her words hit like a pebble in my shoe—small, but impossible to ignore.

I forced a smile and replied vaguely, “It should be soon.” I reached for my glass, grateful for something to do with my hands.

Following my gaze, she spotted Marcus too.

She waved at him, excited. “Hey, high school heartthrob! Natalie says you two have good news coming!”

Her voice was bright and clear, drawing everyone’s attention. People turned, grinning, the air humming with expectation. My face burned; I could practically feel everyone’s eyes on me, waiting for the punchline.

I instinctively tugged her wrist, trying to stop her from saying more. I shot her a look that said please, not now, but she just grinned wider.

Marcus heard her, turned, and looked over.

His eyes lingered on my face for a moment before sliding away, cold and distant. Like I was a stranger crashing the party.

His tone was calm but chilly: “Let’s not make a scene.” He shot me a look that could freeze fire. The way he said it, you’d think I’d set off the fire alarm.

My best friend gave me an awkward smile and a meaningful look. She was always better at reading a room than I was.

“We broke up,” I said, forcing a bitter smile. “We fought. We’re in a cold war.” The words felt foreign in my mouth, like I was speaking someone else’s language.

She patted my shoulder in comfort. The kind of quick squeeze that says, I’m here, even if I don’t know what to say. I was grateful for it, more than she’d ever know.