Four best friends.
One wedding.
A reunion that was never meant to happen.
Time changed everything. But not their pasts. Not the glances that still sting.
Not the love that never really left. One waits for her, clinging to a love that never faded. O...
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Fifteen minutes. That's all the time it took for Myra to start a possible crime scene.
I found her in the home décor aisle, reaching for a vase like it held the secrets of the universe. It was on the top shelf. And she? 90% charm, 10% coordination and 0% physics awareness.
She was on her tiptoes now, arms stretched, wobbling like a baby deer on ice.
My soul left my body.
I could already picture the whole disaster unfold.
And then it happened. She leaned a little too far.
Classic Myra.
I swooped in just in time, one hand on her waist, the other steadying the shelf. "Whoa—watch out!" I said. Disaster averted. Barely.
She gasped and looked at me with those big eyes like I just saved her from a building explosion.
"You okay?" I asked, smiling.
She gave a tiny nod, probably about to say thanks. I should've let her.
But nope. I had to open my mouth. "Shouldn't you be looking for things your height can actually reach?"
Boom. There it was. The glare. The you're-dead-to-me look.
Was it worth it?
Absolutely.
I patted her back like a gentle warning. "You're lucky I was here. Next time? Who's going to save you? A shopping cart?" I clicked my tongue. "Poor little dumpling."
Yes, I call her dumpling. No, I will not explain.
I like her. A lot.
Not love yet. That's a dangerous word. But liking? Yeah. Guilty.
She's ridiculous, mildly dangerous in public settings and somehow still cute enough to make my brain short-circuit.
I blinked, and poof. She disappeared again. Where? How? Why? Myra logic: step 1 – vanish. Step 2 – cause chaos. Step 3 – pretend it wasn't her.
She appeared behind me like a cursed jack-in-the-box. "Holy—Myra!" I nearly screamed.
She poked my shoulder with the daintiest little finger, like a toddler trying to say "I didn't do it" while standing in a puddle of evidence.
"What is it now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
She didn't speak. Just grabbed the front of my jacket and pulled me closer.
Wait. WAIT.
Is she going to kiss me? Here?! In public? In a vase aisle?
"Myra, we can't kiss here," I whispered, panicking.
