Chapter 2

The crowd around me thickened as Jessica's friends closed in, their smartphones raised like weapons. The camera flashes were blinding, each burst of light capturing my humiliation for social media posterity.

"Look at her face!" someone snickered. "Like a deer caught in headlights."

I tried to push through, but Jessica blocked my path, her red-painted lips curled into a predatory smile.

"Let's get a good shot, Amy," she said, holding her phone inches from my face. "This is definitely reunion highlight material."

The woman beside her—Sandra, who'd barely spoken to me in high school—shook her head with mock sympathy. "I always knew you weren't right for Ryan. You were so... ordinary."

"Ordinary?" Jessica laughed. "That's being kind. More like invisible. What did you think, Amy? That Ryan actually saw you?"

The words stung like physical blows. I clutched my purse tighter, trying to find an escape route through the circle of gleeful tormentors.

"How delusional do you have to be?" Jessica continued, her voice carrying over the music. "Did you really think the golden boy fell for the class nobody? Please."

More phones appeared, recording my reaction. I could see myself reflected in their screens—pale, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock.

"I heard he only asked you out because of a bet," said a voice from behind me.

"God, was it true he closed his eyes during..." Jessica's friend Elise didn't finish the sentence, but her meaning was clear.

The laughter that followed cut through me like glass.

Then Ryan was there, pushing through the crowd. For a moment, wild hope flared in my chest—maybe he'd seen what was happening, maybe he'd stop it.

Instead, he held out a manila envelope.

"These are divorce papers," he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "I've had them drawn up for months."

Emily appeared at his side, her arm snaking around his waist. The diamond on her finger caught the light, sending prisms dancing across the walls.

"Sign them, Amy," Ryan said, his tone businesslike. "Let's not make this more pathetic than it already is."

Emily giggled, pressing herself closer to him. "Come on, Amy. Stop being so dramatic. It's embarrassing."

The envelope felt heavy in my hands. I stared at it, unable to process what was happening.

"I'm not signing anything without my lawyer," I managed to say, my voice barely audible over the music.

Ryan's face hardened. "Fine. Be difficult. But it won't change anything." He turned to the crowd. "Show's over, folks. Give us some space."

The circle parted reluctantly, but the phones remained raised, capturing every moment of my humiliation.

I backed away, clutching the envelope to my chest like a shield. The weight of dozens of eyes followed me as I stumbled toward the ladies' room.

Inside, I locked myself in a stall and pressed my forehead against the cool metal door. My entire body was shaking, tears threatening to spill over.

"Did you see her face?" A familiar voice echoed outside my stall—Emily's.

"It was even better than we planned," Jessica replied, their voices muffled but clear through the door. "The look of total shock? Priceless."

I froze, holding my breath.

"How long did it take you to convince Ryan to go through with it?" Jessica asked.

"Three months of planning," Emily said, her voice smug. "I told him we needed to do it publicly, at the reunion, where everyone could see. The ultimate revenge for her audacity."

"Audacity?" Jessica laughed.

"Marrying him in the first place," Emily said. "As if she belonged in our world. As if she deserved him."

"Took him long enough to see it our way," Jessica replied. "I thought he was actually starting to like her."

"Please," Emily scoffed. "Ryan never liked her. She was just... convenient. A placeholder until I was ready."

Their laughter mingled as they moved toward the sinks.

"The best part?" Emily continued. "The way everyone's recording it. By tomorrow, it'll be all over Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. Her social media suicide."

"And we'll be the golden couple," Jessica agreed. "Just like we always should have been."

I pressed my hand against my mouth to stifle a sob. This wasn't just happening—it had been planned for months. A calculated, orchestrated destruction of what little dignity I had left.

I waited until their voices faded before emerging from the stall. My reflection in the mirror looked like a stranger—pale, eyes red-rimmed, hair disheveled. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to compose myself.

I needed to get out of here. But first, I needed my purse—it had my phone, my keys, my lifeline to escape.

Slipping back into the ballroom, I kept to the shadows, scanning the crowd for my small black bag. I spotted it on a chair near the edge of the dance floor.

As I moved toward it, the music changed. The fast-paced pop song faded out, replaced by a slow, melodic tune I recognized immediately.

"Taking requests now," the DJ announced over the speakers. "This one goes out to Ryan Carter and Emily Hayes—high school sweethearts reunited at last!"

The crowd parted as Ryan led Emily to the center of the dance floor. She was radiant in his arms, her red dress swirling around her as they began to dance to "Their Song"—the same song they'd danced to at senior prom, when Ryan had asked me to wait for him while he took Emily to the after-party.

"We all knew they were meant to be, didn't we?" the DJ continued, his voice echoing through the ballroom. "The couple that everyone predicted would end up together!"

Applause erupted around them as they swayed together, Ryan's hands at Emily's waist, her head resting on his shoulder.

I stood frozen, watching them. The entire room had turned to watch the spectacle—the fairy tale romance unfolding before them.

"Look at them," whispered a woman beside me. "Like they were never apart."

I reached for my purse, my fingers closing around the strap just as Ryan dipped Emily dramatically. The crowd gasped, then cheered as he pulled her back up.

"They're perfect together," another voice said.

I backed away, clutching my purse to my chest. No one noticed me leaving—all eyes were on the golden couple, lost in their moment.

As I pushed through the exit doors, I heard the DJ's voice one last time:

"To Ryan and Emily—may your love story continue for years to come!"

The doors closed behind me, muffling the applause. But nothing could silence the words echoing in my head:

This was just the beginning of their plan.

And I had no idea what was coming next.