Then came the wedding. It was a mutual friend's wedding, someone from my college days who had unfortunately stayed friends with Chloe, too. I knew she might be there. I almost didn't go, but then I looked in the mirror, adjusted my tie, and thought, Why should I hide?
I brought Elena. We looked great. We were laughing, holding hands, drinking champagne.
I saw Chloe during the cocktail hour. She looked older. Her hair was dull. Her dress looked cheap and ill-fitting. She was standing alone near the bar, nursing a drink, looking around the room with anxious eyes. She wasn't the center of attention anymore; she was just a guest.
She saw me. Her eyes locked onto me, then drifted to Elena, then back to me. I saw the recognition hit her like a physical blow. She saw the new suit. She saw the relaxed posture. She saw the happiness.
She put her drink down and walked straight toward me.
Elena squeezed my hand. "Is that her?"
"Yeah," I said. "Do you mind giving me a minute?"
"I'll get us refills," Elena said, kissing my cheek before walking away. Class act.
Chloe stopped two feet in front of me. Up close, she looked tired; there were bags under her eyes.
"Mark," she said, her voice wavering.
"Chloe," I said. My tone was polite, professional.
"You look amazing," she said. She tried to smile, but her lip trembled. "I heard you got promoted."
"I did."
"That's great. Really." She took a breath. "Look, Mark, I know I messed up. I know I let my mom get in my head. But God, it's been a nightmare. That guy, Julian... he ruined me. I'm living on my mom's couch. She screams at me every day. I miss... I miss the peace we had. I miss us."
She reached out to touch my arm. I took a half-step back.
"I miss feeling safe," she whispered. "You were always my safety. I didn't appreciate it until it was gone. Can we just get coffee? Just talk, please. I'm drowning here."