Chapter 1
My phone is vibrating itself off the table. A flood of messages, over a hundred of them, has turned my high school group chat into a frenzy. Every last message is about Samantha Lee, the undisputed queen of Northwood High.
[She's back! Landed today!]
[Holy shit! This is Ethan Shaw's chance! We have to make this happen!]
[The untouchable genius, brought to his knees by love, only to have his heart shattered on graduation night. It's been ten years, and I still can't let it go.]
I, Lauren Rivers, quietly pick up my phone.
What they don't know is that their "untouchable genius," the boy who supposedly got his heart broken, has been my husband for the last three years.
And me? I was just the quiet girl in the background, the one with a front-row seat to their epic high school romance.
They think this reunion can rekindle an old flame?
I lock my phone and lean against the doorframe of the study, a smirk playing on my lips. My husband is buried under a stack of legal briefs.
"Honey," I murmur. "Guess who's back in town? Your high school sweetheart. And apparently, the old crew is trying to play Cupid."
He doesn't even look up from his work. "Not going."
My smirk widens into a full-blown grin. "Oh, you're so going. There's no way I'm watching this show by myself."
*****
My phone was buzzing on the table, vibrating so hard it sounded like it had a tiny engine inside.
I had just stepped out of the shower, towel-drying my hair, when I glanced over.
The high school group chat, a digital graveyard for nearly a year, had suddenly roared back to life.
Messages were flooding in, dozens per minute, and the notification bubble had already rocketed past "99+."
What the hell was going on?
Curiosity got the better of me, and I tapped it open.
David Carter, our former class president, had just tagged everyone, followed by a bombshell.
[Guys! Huge news! Samantha Lee is back! She just landed!]
The name alone was enough to make the group chat explode.
[No fucking way! Seriously? The queen herself is finally back?]
David dropped a blurry airport photo. A woman was in a chic beige trench coat, her long hair in loose waves, face hidden behind oversized sunglasses. Even out of focus, she radiated that untouchable vibe.
[That's totally Samantha! She hasn't aged a day. Still stunning!]
[Is she just visiting, or is she back for good?]
David replied: [She's back for good! Said she's moving back to start her career here!]
That message was like a lit match in a bucket of gasoline. The chat went absolutely nuclear.
[Oh my God! My entire youth is flashing before my eyes!]
[We have to throw a reunion! A welcome-home party for our school queen!]
[I'm so in! Let's do it this weekend!]
I scrolled through the messages, my thumb swiping listlessly. I felt nothing.
Samantha was, without a doubt, the queen bee of our graduating class. She was gorgeous and brilliant with a sweet-as-sugar personality, the girl every guy secretly dreamed of.
And me? I was Lauren Rivers, the jock. If I wasn't sweating it out on the track, I was on my way to the track.
Samantha and I were two parallel lines, never meant to intersect.
But Ethan Shaw showed up, changing our fates.
Ethan was the other legend of Northwood High. He was an ice-cold genius who permanently occupied the first academic rank. He was aloof, untouchable, and barely gave anyone the time of day.
But even a glacier like him could be melted. And Samantha was a blowtorch.
As their classmate, I had a permanent back-row seat to their three-year, real-life teen drama.
I watched Ethan go from complete indifference to stolen glances to, finally, a heart-stopping public confession in front of the entire school.
Their romance was the stuff of legends, the kind that made everyone else sick with envy.
Everyone assumed they were endgame, destined to get married after graduation.
But reality, as it so often does, had other plans. At graduation, Samantha got her acceptance letter to a prestigious university overseas. Ethan, however, had to stay behind to care for his sick mother.
The day she left, I was at the airport and happened to see them. Samantha, her face streaked with tears, choked out, "Wait for me." Ethan's eyes were red-rimmed and raw, but he couldn't say a single word.
And just like that, they were over.
I kept scrolling. The chat had already veered completely off the rails.
Chloe Winters, our class' artsy drama queen, decided to stir the pot.
She tagged Ethan and texted: [If Samantha's back, where's Ethan? Ethan Shaw, you in here? Your past is calling!]
That tag silenced the chat for a solid three seconds before it erupted with even more frantic energy.
[Yeah! Where's the prodigy? Get in here!]
[David, you have to get Ethan to come! I'm still not over their breakup. It's been a decade!]
[Totally! We have to be the matchmakers this time! I need to see this story get its happy ending!]
[Ethan, you hear that? Samantha's back for good! This is your shot. Don't blow it!]
A small laugh escaped my lips.
His shot?
A happy ending?
I put down my phone, finished towel-drying my hair, and padded into the study.
There, at the desk, was the very man they were all frantically tagging. He was wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, his focus entirely on a document in front of him.
The lamplight caught the straight bridge of his nose and his sharp, defined jawline. His profile was just as devastatingly handsome as it had been in high school.
He must have felt me watching because he looked up, his eyes meeting mine.
"Hair dry?" His voice was a low rumble, still thick with concentration.
I nodded, walking up behind his chair. I rested my hands on his shoulders and leaned over, glancing at his phone.
His inbox was pristine. The class group thread had long been silenced, with a notification badge hovering next to it like a ticking time bomb.
The little spark of mischief in me roared to life.