Paige's POV
The invitation arrived inside a cream envelope with golden script, sealed by wax stamped with looping initials—M&J.
For almost a week, it sat on my marble countertop. Each morning I'd glance at it—a silent challenge, or a mockery, I wasn't sure. On my day off, coffee in hand, I glared at it, half-hoping my stare would ignite it into flames.
"It's not going to magically open itself." Sasha appeared in the doorway, still in her night-shift scrubs, blonde hair twisted in a messy bun.
"You gonna open it, or do I need to?"
"I know it's calling me back home for something," I muttered.
Sasha walked over, ripped the seal, and pulled out a folded parchment. "Aw, it's Jenna's wedding!" Her grin fell. "Oh."
I closed my eyes. Of course. The one cousin I could never refuse.
A note slipped out in Jenna's elegant print: I know this is a lot. I know you have your reasons for staying away, but I need you there. If there was anyone I absolutely wanted, it would be you.
My heart hammered. Jenna had always been there for me. I couldn't say no—not even if it meant going back to the place where the younger ghost of me still lingered. Where each room reminded me of how lost I once felt.
"You're going to go." Sasha sat across from me. "Can your sobriety handle it?"
I tried not to flinch. Six and a half years ago, she found me in the dorm laundry room at 2 a.m., drunk and sobbing over a text I couldn't forget. The subject line: Sorry Please. Two words, and my world cracked open.
"There's someone," I'd whispered that night. "Back home." My voice cracked. The truth was too jagged.
She didn't push. She just put an arm around my shoulders. Sasha stayed through withdrawals, breakdowns, months of numbness. She never pressed for details.
Now she looked at me gently. "You're terrified."
"No," I lied.
"You're a terrible liar." She sipped her coffee. "Do you need a pep talk, a panic room, or for me to call Jenna about a rash?"
I almost smiled. Then I glanced at the invite. "It's a two-week event."
"Two weeks?"
"Jenna," I sighed. "Golden retriever in human form." My smile faded. "When I was fourteen and my dad..." I stopped. "She just sat with me on the bathroom floor. No questions."
Sasha squeezed my shoulder. "Hold your head high. Don't let them see you shy away."
She left for bed. I sat alone. Seven years since I'd last set foot in my hometown.
"Two weeks." Deep breath. "I can do this."51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnR1SH4ucJ6
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