A Love That Never Was

Chapter 1: The Invitation

I stared at the envelope in my hands like it might catch fire if I held it too long.

The gold-embossed lettering spelled out his name in the same confident script I’d once doodled in my notebooks, back when I was sixteen, hopelessly and silently in love.

Lark & Elara.

Together, forever.

Thurstaday, february 13th.

4:00 PM. St. Adelaide’s Church. Reception to follow.

I read it twice. Three times. Like the words might change if I looked hard enough.

They didn’t.

“I can’t believe he actually sent you an invitation,” Ishang muttered from my couch, curled up with a bowl of popcorn like we were about to watch some tragic drama. Which, in a way, we were.

“I mean… we’re still friends,” I said, though the words tasted like denial.

“Friends, sure. But inviting you almost to your wedding? That’s a little bold.”

I didn’t reply. Because the truth was, I had no idea what I was supposed to feel.

Shock?

Sadness?

Jealousy?

Gratitude?

Maybe all of them.

Maybe none.

A decade of friendship. Six years of something more. Three years of courtship. And zero months as an actual couple.

That was our story. The love that never quite made it past the "what if."

“I’m not going,” I said finally, placing the invitation back on the table like it offended me.

Ishang snorted. “Yes, you are.”

I gave her a look. “No, I’m really not.”

“You say that now, but you’ll change your mind. You always do.” She stood up and went to the bathroom, before she entered she looked at me and pointed a finger at me while saying does words.

I hated that she was probably right.

Because even though my chest felt like it was being squeezed by invisible hands, some irrational part of me needed to see him. One last time. Just to make sure he was really happy. Just to convince myself that letting him go was the right thing to do.

Or maybe I just needed closure. I sigh.

“Closure is a scam,” Ishang said, like she’d read my mind. “We tell ourselves we want it, but really we just want one more moment.” She said with a toothbrushin her mouth.

I didn’t argue with her... Because again, she's right.

Instead, I got up, walked to the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of wine. My hands trembled as I held the glass.

Or maybe it was my heart.

It had a habit of misbehaving when it came to Lark.

I took a long sip.

“Should I bring a date?” I asked suddenly, the words surprising even me.

Ishang raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a date?”

“No. But that’s beside the point.”

“Well, if you’re gonna show up at your not-ex’s wedding, might as well make an entrance.”

I gave her a weak smile. “You volunteering?”

“Obviously. Someone has to hold your hand when your emotional dam breaks and you start ugly crying in the pews.”

I laughed. It wasn’t full, but it was real.