Chapter 1

1: 1

Seven years with Emmet James, and when we finally started planning the wedding, I took on the invitations myself.

I stayed up designing through a migraine, right up until the week before the wedding, when I finished the fifteenth version. The second he walked through the door, I carried my laptop over and set it in front of him.

I was about to tell him to pick one when he laid an invitation down on the keyboard.

"Don't bother with all that. Let's just use this one."

The cover had roses done in this elaborate three-dimensional embroidery, studded with pearls of different sizes.

Seeing my confusion, he explained on his way to the bathroom.

"Adela Henson designed it. The girl put a lot of thought into it, so it'd be awkward to say no. And it saves you the trouble."

I watched his back, and something in my chest went raw.

Five years together, and he was a hardcore minimalist. Everything in his life had to be pared down.

Our wedding home looked like a staged showroom, the bedding always one flat color, the same style of clothes hanging in his closet year after year.

The first fourteen versions of the invitation had one extra line drawn on them, and he'd shot every one of them down.

But now, suddenly, someone else had put in the effort, and it would be awkward to refuse.

I opened my chat with my sworn rival and sent her the version I loved most.

"Rate it. What do you think?"

The reply came almost instantly.

"That's fire!"

"Would be even better if the groom's name was mine."

The corner of my mouth lifted. I typed back.

"Not impossible, actually."

1

Ten minutes later, Emmet came out of the shower, toweling his hair as he walked over to me.

"What's going on? You look pretty happy."

I didn't lift my eyes from my phone, but most of the smile drained off my face.

"I'm getting married. Of course I'm happy."

He nodded.

"Then I'll have someone print the invitations tomorrow, and we can send them out to family and friends the day after."

"No need."

I pushed the invitation on the table away from me.

"I'm not marrying you, so it's none of your concern."

Emmet stopped short, brows drawing together.

"Mona Callahan, are you being serious right now? It's just an invitation."

"Get it settled sooner and you won't have to keep wearing yourself out on the design. Then you can focus on the wedding itself, right?"

I raised my eyes to him. My voice shook a little.

"So you do know I wore myself out over it?"

"And after all that, none of mine were good enough. You only liked the one someone else made."

"So which is it you actually like, Emmet? The invitation, or the person?"

"What are you talking about?"

Emmet's pupils flickered.

"Adela is my student, and she's my subordinate!"

"Can you not think of people in such a filthy way?"

A laugh escaped me.

"Then how am I supposed to think?"

"She went to look at the venue. She helped choose the flowers. And now she made the invitation."

"Emmet, don't you think she looks more like the one who's supposed to be marrying you?"

He set the towel down, sat beside me, and drew in a deep breath.

"Mona, you know this. Her father funded me all through school. Even if I tutored her for a while, that's a debt I can never fully repay."

I didn't answer. I walked to the entryway and picked up his keyring.

There was a new key on it, wrapped in a little cat-shaped cover.

"Where's this from?"

Emmet started to rise, then sat back down.

"It's Adela's."

"Someone marked up the apartment she was renting. It wasn't safe, so if anything happens, I can let myself in."

My nose stung. I forced the lump in my throat back down.

Three months ago, on a rainy night, the road I always took home from work was under repair and the streetlights were shut off.

In the pitch-black alley, the footsteps behind me kept getting closer.

Palms sweating, I called him and told him to come right away.

He hung up on me and sent a message instead.

【What kind of world do you think this is? Who has nothing better to do than follow you around at night?】

【I've got an urgent meeting, I can't get away. Don't be dramatic.】

All I could do was turn my phone volume all the way up, play music, and run toward a crowded street to get someone's attention.

After the man following me disappeared, I sat inside a convenience store, clutching a box of hot food, shaking with fear.

I wanted to tell Emmet I really had been followed, but then I saw Adela's new post.

In the photo, she and Emmet were sitting in a spacious conference room, a high-school math test laid out in front of them.

The caption read:

【The way back to seventeen is to sit beside you at nineteen.】

In Emmet's hand was a pen with the same little cat as the keychain.

I'd loved that blind-box series for ages and wanted to buy a whole case to display at home.

But he'd asked me, straight-faced:

"Do you really think that fits the way we've decorated the place?"

And now the key was on his ring, and the pen was in his hand.

Seeing that I said nothing, Emmet stood, came up behind me, and slid his arms around my shoulders.

"If you really don't like it, then we'll send invitations separately, your side and my side. Okay?"

I stared at that key, silent for a few seconds, then nodded.

"Okay."

Then from this moment on, the seven years that belonged to us had started counting down.