He’s got that same sharp jawline and serious mouth. He’s older, yes—there are lines at the corners of his eyes that weren’t there before, and a gravity to his expression that makes him look like he carries the weight of the world.
It looks good on him. Damn good.
And then he turns.
Our eyes meet across the backyard full of people.
The world tilts sideways.
His face—God, his face goes completely blank for half a second, like his brain just short-circuited. Then something flickers across his expression so fast that I almost miss it. Shock. Recognition. Something that looks almost like pain.
His mouth opens slightly. I see him form my name without sound.
Harper.
My heart is busy trying to beat its way out of my fucking chest. I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but stand there like an idiot while every single lie I told myself on the drive up here combusts in the space between us.
I barely knew him.
Bullshit.
It was just a teenage crush.
Fucking liar.
I won’t be affected by seeing him after all this time.
I’m fucked. So completely fucked.
Because the way I feel right now, staring at Caleb Graham across Helen’s backyard—it’s everything. It’s the ground dropping out from under me. It’s ten years of thoroughly constructed defenses crumbling to dust.
It’s the absolute certainty that I never got over him, not even a little bit, and the knowledge that coming here is the single stupidest decision I’ve ever made.
And I’ve made a lot of stupid decisions.
Someone touches his arm—the priest, saying something—and Caleb jerks his attention away from me. But I see his hand come up to grip the back of his neck and how his chest rises and falls too fast.
He’s as wrecked as I am.
Realizing that makes everything worse.
I need to sit down. I need to get the fuck out of here. I need?—
“You okay?” the redhead asks, and I realize I’ve just been standing frozen in the middle of the lawn like a complete psycho.
“Fine,” I manage, my voice coming out strangled. “Just—need to find a seat.”
I panic and dive for a chair in the very back row, as far from the front as I can get. I duck my head and let my hair fall forward to hide my face.
Stupid.It’s not like he didn’t already see you. I can’t un-ring this bell.
My hands are shaking. I clasp them together in my lap, staring at my knees.
This was a mistake. Such a massive, catastrophic mistake.
I should leave. Right now. Just get up and walk out before this gets any worse.
But then Caleb steps up to the lectern, and his voice—his voice—rings out across the backyard, and I’m frozen in place all over again.