Chapter 2: Reunion Games and Old Flames

The next day was my high school reunion.

I’d been dreading it since the invite popped up on Facebook, but there was no backing out—my old cheerleading squad already had me locked into the group chat.

Stuck in traffic, I showed up late to find the party in full swing—jackets tossed everywhere, soda cans on every table. The room smelled like pepperoni pizza and cheap cologne, the kind of scent that sticks to your clothes for days.

I glanced around and didn’t see Alex Harper.

Relief washed over me, cool and sharp, like a glass of lemonade in August. Maybe he’d decided to skip it.

I let out a sigh, finally letting go of the tension I’d been carrying for days.

Halfway through the party games, someone blurted out:

"Alex just texted, he’s almost here. Why isn’t he here yet?"

"Probably stuck in traffic."

"Tsk, I heard Mr. Harper, who spent years overseas, came back for his first love. Wonder if it’s true."

"No way, I saw him in town last week."

"……"

The second I heard his name, my heart skipped a beat.

The laughter in the room seemed to echo, too loud. I fiddled with my sleeve, trying to keep my cool.

I quickly looked away, doing my best to look calm, but inside I was all nerves. I snatched up my phone and bag, making up an excuse to leave.

My brain scrambled for a plausible excuse—sudden work emergency, migraine, anything to avoid him.

Suddenly, the private room door swung open.

The whole place went silent, like someone had hit pause.

A familiar figure stepped in.

Alex Harper. Taller than I remembered, that same easy swagger. He looked like he’d never left.

Our eyes met, and for a split second, the rest of the world faded away.

Years had changed him—he’d lost that boyish softness. Now he looked sharper, more confident, more…dangerous.

He wore a navy suit that actually fit, hair a little longer, stubble along his jaw. If he’d walked off the cover of GQ, I wouldn’t have blinked.

His gaze found me.

Those eyes didn’t hold the warmth I remembered. He just gave me a small smile and said, "Long time no see."

He tipped his chin, then turned to greet the others, sliding right into small talk like a pro.

Jenna blocked my way, arms folded, eyebrows up. “Maddie, it’s rare for us all to be together. Stay, the game’s almost over.”

I forced a smile and settled back down, trying to act normal while my brain short-circuited.

Alex slid into the seat across from me, cool as ever, barely acknowledging the tension between us.

As soon as he sat, I—who hadn’t lost a round all night—lost instantly.

Figures. My brain went static, my hands all thumbs. Everyone laughed, tossing good-natured jabs at me.

Then Jenna, who always loved to tease, piped up:

"Maddie, are you still single?"

At that, Alex looked over, forgetting his hand, looking a little tense.

His poker face slipped. He drummed his fingers, eyes darting to me.

For a second, I considered telling the truth—but mischief won out.

I pouted, going full drama queen: "I’m divorced with a kid. My son’s three and already in preschool."

I said it with a straight face, just to see what would happen.

Alex’s brows furrowed, hard.

He stared, jaw tight, like he was running the numbers in his head.

Everyone stared at me in disbelief. Jenna snorted.

"Really? Didn’t expect you to be the first to get married."

"Do we know your husband? Was that kid I saw you with your son?"

"Why didn’t you invite us to your wedding?"

"Was he so ugly you didn’t want us to meet him?"

"……"

Jenna’s friends loved to stir the pot—their questions came fast as darts at a fair.

I smirked, adding, "There was no wedding, we just did the courthouse thing—no big wedding, no drama."

Alex sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and picked up his whiskey. He took a long sip, eyes never leaving mine, like he was trying to swallow his feelings.

I caught a flash of silver on his left hand—something I hadn’t seen in years.

He was wearing the ring I’d thrown away in anger when we broke up. The same band, initials still scratched inside. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Memories flickered in my mind like a film reel.