Couple weeks later
"Fuck no, we're not inviting Aunt Cassie." Elara said flatly, her tone sharp with finality as she stared at the TV like the thought alone annoyed her.
I snorted softly, half amused, half relieved, as my mind lazily drifted through the idea of a wedding guest list that barely existed. I was stretched out on the couch, Bella tucked comfortably against one side of and Elara on the other, the three of us tangled together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The new TV dominated the living room wall, massive and bright, playing so random video none of us were really paying attention to.
So far, we hadn't invited anyone.
And honestly... there wasn't anyone to invite.
I didn't have friends. No extended family I cared to see. No obligatory faces I'd have to smile through. And the more I thought about it, the more freeing that felt instead of sad.
"Do we even have to invite anyone?" Bella asked casually, chewing on a cold slice of leftover pizza. Her voice was muffled as she took another bite, completely unbothered. "What if it's just us?"
I shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of both of them pressed into my sides, the rings on my fingers catching the light as I moved. They felt warm—real. Grounding.
"Yeah... why not?" I added, my voice calm, almost relieved as the idea settled in. "We don't need a huge wedding. No stress, no crowds. We could do it here, at ho. Just sothing small. Cozy."
Bella nodded imdiately, like the thought had already won her over. Elara stayed quiet for a mont, eyes still on the screen, jaw working as she thought it over. Then she exhaled softly, like she'd just dropped sothing heavy she didn't want to carry anyway.
"You know what?" she said finally. "Yeah. Why not. No point in all that bullshit. No fake smiles, no people we don't even like."
She shifted closer, her shoulder pressing into mine with quiet certainty.
Outside, sowhere beyond the wide windows, Liz was out running—keeping up with that health kick she'd started since moving in. The house felt alive in a peaceful way: faint footsteps upstairs, the hum of electricity, the quiet comfort of being settled.
No chaos.
No expectations.
Just us.
And for the first ti, the idea of a wedding didn't feel overwhelming—it felt right.
I glued my face to the screen, utterly shocked as I watched the video of EDD445 getting caught yet again trying to et an underage boy.
It was like she had so kind of sick compulsion, an obsession she couldn't shake. What the hell was wrong with her? How could soone be so ssed up?
My eyes stayed locked on the footage as the obese woman stumbled through the confrontation, getting slapped around by five won who were recording the whole thing. Their hands flew fast, smacking her face and arms while she flailed, trying to shield herself.
The chaos was almost comical in a ssed-up way—her desperate grunts and the sharp cracks of the slaps echoing through the speakers. She was never gonna learn, no matter how many tis this played out.
"WHY DO THEY KEEP LETTING HER OUT?!" Bella scread at the TV, her voice raw with frustration. A bit of pizza sauce dribbled from the corner of her mouth, clinging to her chin as she glared at the screen, her chest heaving.
I reached over and patted her thigh, trying to ease her down. She exhaled sharply, her shoulders slumping as she took another ssy bite of her slice, the tension lting away for a mont.
"Play sothing else. This is just sad and infuriating," Elara muttered, her tone heavy with disgust as she tossed the remote. Her dark eyes flicked away from the screen, like she couldn't stomach another second of it.
I was about to scroll through the streaming apps for a movie—sothing light to clear the air—when the doorbell chid, cutting through the quiet hum of the TV.
My brow furrowed in confusion. We'd moved into this place a couple of weeks ago, and not once had anyone stopped by. No neighbors, no delivery guys, nothing.
Who the hell could be at the door now? I set the remote down, curiosity and a flicker of unease creeping in as I got up to check.
I peered through the peephole, my heart racing a little, but saw nothing out of the ordinary—just three plain envelopes lying on the doormat. A flicker of unease passed through once more; God, I hope this isn't sothing dangerous like anthrax.
I hesitated for a mont before cracking the door open, scanning the outside one last ti. Empty. Bending down, I scooped up the envelopes, noticing the neat handwriting on each.
One was addressed to Bella, another to Elara, and, strangest of all, the third had my na on it. A knot ford in my stomach as I stepped back inside, shutting the door with a soft click and turning the lock for good asure.
I stood there for a second with the door shut behind , staring down at the envelopes in my hands like they might start ticking. Plain white. No return address. Thick paper—expensive, too. Whoever dropped these off didn't grab them from a gas station rack.
My socks dragged softly against the floor as I walked back to the large U shaped sofa in the living room, the house suddenly feeling much larger and quieter than it had a few minutes ago.
"Hey... uh," I said, holding two of them out, "I've got one for you, Bella... and one for you, Elara."
Both of them took theirs at the sa ti.
Bella turned hers over imdiately, squinting at it like it might reveal sothing if she stared hard enough. Elara didn't open hers yet—she just weighed it in her hand, eyes narrowing slightly, instincts already spinning.
"And you?" Bella asked.
I held up the third envelope. "Yeah... one for too. Which is weird."
That earned a look from Elara—sharp, focused.
I retreated to the kitchen under the excuse of food, grabbing a cold slice of pizza from the box and leaning against the marble island. The house lighting was warm, soft, almost too calm for the unease creeping up my spine.
I wiped my fingers on a napkin before touching the envelope again, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet everything was.
No handwriting. Just my na printed cleanly on the front.
I slid a finger under the flap and opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of thick paper.
"Congrats on the house and marriage, So dreams co true faster than expected.
Enjoy your ti together—privacy is such a rare luxury these days.
Sincerely, Adrian flowers."
The na sat there on the paper like it had weight—Adrian Flowers—inked clean and confident, like it had never left my life at all. My heart slamd once, hard, then started racing like it was trying to catch up with a decade of silence.
Alive.
He was alive.
I stared at the envelope on the marble island, my fingers hovering over it before I finally let go, sliding it away as if touching it too long might pull backward into middle school hallways, scraped knees, shared lunches, and secrets whispered under bleachers.
"Huh... that's funny," I said lightly, forcing a breath through my nose. My voice sounded normal, which surprised . "Didn't expect that."
Inside, my thoughts were anything but.
I hadn't seen Adrian since we were kids. One day he was there—laughing, daring to do stupid shit, promising we'd move out of this town together—and the next, he was just... gone. No goodbye. No explanation. Just absence.
I rubbed my chin, staring at the countertop as if answers might be etched into the stone.
Marriage. The house. The timing.
That wasn't luck.
"I did."
Elara's voice cut clean through my thoughts.
I blinked and looked up at her. "You... what?"
"I told him," she said calmly, stepping closer, completely unbothered. Her tone was gentle, but firm—like this was always going to co out eventually. "About the house. About the engagent. About you."
The tension that had coiled tight in my chest loosened just a little.
"Oh." I let out a breath, then laughed softly, more out of relief than humor. "Well... thanks, Elara. Seriously. It's nice to know he's still alive."
I crossed the kitchen and wrapped my arms around her, pressing my face briefly into her breasts. She slled like ho—clean fabric, faint cologne, warmth. Her arms ca around imdiately, solid and grounding.
"I wouldn't have said anything if I thought it'd hurt you," she murmured. "But he asked. And he sounded... happy for you."
That word—happy—settled sothing deep in .
Bella appeared at my side, leaning against the island, eyes flicking once more to the envelope before softening when she looked at . She reached out, fingers brushing mine, then lacing with them.
"So," she said gently, "childhood best friend huh? Shouldn’t he be at the wedding?”
I exhaled, shoulders finally dropping. "Definitely" I admitted.
I glanced once more at the envelope, then turned away from it, choosing instead the warmth of their bodies, the quiet hum of our house around us.
Whatever Adrian was now—wherever he was—he wasn't a ghost anymore.
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