In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back.

She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.]

That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise.

My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either.

Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too.

They forgot I was still in there.

Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him.

Seven years.

I'm tired.

[Emily clawed her way up. How could she compete with Celine, the girl who sat next to him every day?]

At seventeen, I would've left the chat, grabbed Adrian's phone, deleted Celine, made him swear I was the only one.

But I'm twenty-seven now.

When I heard she was back, I stood in the kitchen, spatula in hand. It shook, just a little.

I flipped the egg. "Good."

Everyone knew how intense Celine and Adrian used to be.

Everyone also knew how bad I looked next to her.

The second my best friend Marie heard Celine was back, she showed up ready to fight.

"If Adrian brings her home, I'm going off."

I set breakfast on a porcelain plate and slid it to her. "She's too proud for something that tacky."

Showing up at a wife's house like she owned it? Lowest move.

But Celine wouldn't need to. Adrian would pick her anyway.

That's why I said I was worse.

Because I did exactly that.

I slipped in while they were fighting, taking advantage of the opening when neither of them would back down.

And I didn't just chase him. I took him like he was mine.

My phone buzzed. Adrian.

[Come with me to a banquet tonight.]

Celine would be there.

He hadn't been home in two days.

I turned off the screen, slid off my ring, and set it on the table.

I let out a dry smile. "Guess it's my turn to be the joke."

They were perfect. The kind everyone swore was meant to be.

I saw it in college.

Adrian was cold, untouchable—except with Celine. Then he softened.

He knitted her scarves, waited outside her dorm, stayed up all night helping her study.

One photo of their backs could blow up the whole campus forum.

Back then, I'd pull up her pictures, grinding my teeth, jealous of how she had it all.

People compared us long before she came back.

After she returned, it got worse.

Or maybe they didn't bother saying my name at all.

No comparison needed.

***

Soft music filled the ballroom. I stood in low heels, my hand on Adrian's arm.

Then Celine walked in. Every eye snapped to her.

She came straight over, like nothing had changed.

She held out her hand, smiling. "Long time no see."

Adrian stayed blank. Didn't move.

But I felt it—his arm went tight.

He still didn't take it. Her hand hung there, unmoving.

The air went stiff.

I stepped in, trying to ease it. "Long time no see. When'd you get back?"

A small, stupid hope crept up.

Maybe... after all these years, Adrian cared. Maybe I had a place, even a small one.

Right then, Adrian's friend, Zane Wilder, stepped in and took her hand.

I grabbed nothing.

My hand hung there, empty.

People looked between us, amused. My little fantasy shattered without a word.

Adrian's jaw tightened. Right in front of me, he told her, "I'm married."

But I knew what that meant.

He was mourning what they lost.

Didn't even bother hiding it.

I'd already lost.

After that, Adrian's mom, Claudia, rushed over.

Not for me.

She slipped between us, warm and easy with Celine. I got pushed out while the three of them chatted and laughed like I wasn't there.

When it turned sentimental, Claudia dabbed her eye. "I still remember you and Adrian joking about getting married in our house."

Celine's voice went soft. "Mrs. Sandford..."

I pressed my lips together, head down.

I didn't have to look. I could feel the stares—sharp, eager, mocking.

I'm the climber. The nobody who slipped in while Celine was gone.

So what was the point of all those years trying to please Claudia?

Cheap.

And my husband—

Maybe he was caught up in it too. He stood there, blank, but his hand kept tightening.

So yeah. He never loved me.

I stood there, quiet, awkward, until—

Celine looked up at me, something unwilling in her eyes. "Is she your wife?" Her voice shook, barely holding it together.

Finally, we stood side by side. The gap was obvious.

Even I felt it.

I forced a stiff smile.

Adrian shot me a cold glance. No explanation. No reassurance. Just, "Zane and the others threw you a welcome-home party."

Zane. And that group—especially the ones who always mocked me.

Just thinking about it made my head spin.

Adrian didn't care. He never did.

My body tensed on instinct. I held my breath, uneasy.

I forced a smile. "Then have fun. I'll—"

"You're going."

He cut me off. I froze.

He looked at me, cold, and repeated, slow, "You're going."