Chapter 1

I lost a game of Truth or Dare and was dared to call the first guy in my contacts, put him on speaker, and ask to borrow money.

The contact was saved under "A."

That was Frederick Grant. The guy who aced the SATs. The tech world's rising star. And the boy I had a crush on throughout my entire youth.

The call connected. A low, magnetic voice came through, husky with sleep. "Hello?"

My palms were sweating. "Frederick, I-I have an emergency. Can I borrow three thousand dollars?"

Dead silence filled the private room. Everyone was waiting for the humiliation. After all, my very public rejection by him back in school was legendary.

There was a two-second pause on the other end.

Just as I was about to hang up, a faint rustling sound came through the phone, followed by a soft chuckle.

"Three thousand is a bit low. My spare card is in the inner pocket of your bag. The PIN is your birthday. Use it for anything.

"And... did you get enough rest? You're up awfully early after last night."

The room erupted.

With trembling hands, I searched my bag, and my fingers brushed against a black credit card.

So it was true. The man I drunkenly married that night... was really him.

*****

"Charley Foster, you lost!" Jessica Lane waved her empty cocktail glass in my face, a vicious sparkle in her eyes. "Truth or dare?"

My head was pounding. The strobe lights in the VIP room stabbed at my vision.

I'd only been back for a few hours, and the crushing grief from my last one still clung to me like a shroud.

In my previous life, this class reunion was where everything started to unravel.

Just like before, I lost the game. Just like before, Jessica dared me to call Frederick, my lifelong crush, and humiliate myself.

Back then, I'd gathered every shred of my courage, called him, and poured my heart out. He'd shot me down with a polite, icy finality that echoed for years.

That "pathetic confession" became my nickname, my brand.

Jessica made sure of it, doctoring the story and blasting it all over social media, turning me into the punchline of every joke.

After that, it was like a curse settled over my life. Nothing worked out. Every opportunity crumbled. I was drowning in debt and depression when the news hit: Frederick had died in a car accident.

That was when I truly understood. I hadn't just lost a job or my dignity. I'd lost the only light I'd ever cared about.

And now, I was back. Right at the precipice.

"I choose dare," I said, my voice rough.

Jessica's face lit up with predatory glee. She'd already planned this.

"Perfect! Call the first guy in your contacts, put it on speaker, and tell him you need three grand. Right now."

She jabbed the air on "speaker."

A hush fell over the room. All eyes locked on me, hungry and expectant.

Everyone knew my situation. Fresh out of college, with a shaky internship, and living paycheck to paycheck. Who did I know that could just casually front three thousand dollars?

This was a setup for a very public fall.

My best friend, Amanda Brooks, shot up. "Jessica, that's too much! You're just trying to embarrass her."

Jessica shrugged, all faux innocence. "Rules are rules. Don't play if you can't pay. Right, guys?"

A chorus of agreement rose around her, eager for the drama.

"Come on, Charley, just make the call!"

"Let's meet this mysterious 'A'!"

I tuned them out and pulled out my phone.

My first contact, pinned to the top: A.

Frederick.

My heart gave a painful squeeze.

This was it. The exact moment from my previous life that broke me.

Was I really going to walk off the same cliff?

I looked up and met Jessica's smug, triumphant stare.

She was so sure I'd falter, so sure she'd get her show, a front-row seat to Frederick Grant rejecting me all over again.

Why should I let her keep stepping all over me, again and again?

I didn't come back to relive my greatest humiliation. I didn't come back to be her entertainment.

I took a sharp breath, tapped the call button, and hit speaker.

The ringing tone stretched, each pulse tightening around my chest.

The silence in the room was absolute, suffocating.

Every gaze was a laser on my skin.

Finally, a click.

"Hello?" That voice, deep, magnetic, still husky with sleep, filled the static air.

His voice. In my darkest nights, it was the memory of that voice that had sometimes kept me breathing.

A sudden, sharp ache pierced behind my eyes.

"Frederick..." My voice was a fragile thread. "It's me. Charley."