Turn 7 of 15

Squeeze Jack's hand and guide him toward Lauren confidently

You tighten your fingers around Jack's and step forward before he can hesitate. His hand is rigid, the muscles in his forearm locked, but you pull him along with the easy certainty of someone who belongs here, and after a moment his feet follow. The crowd parts around you, guests drifting aside with curious glances, and you can feel the weight of their attention settling on your joined hands, on the green dress, on Jack's set jaw. You don't care. You should care, because an hour ago you were the kind of person who avoided eye contact with cashiers, but right now the necklace is warm against your sternum and your spine is straight and you are walking toward the bride like you have every right to be here.

Lauren sees you when you're about ten feet away. Her eyes find Jack first, and you watch the recognition hit her face in stages: surprise, confusion, and then something careful and guarded that pulls her chin up half an inch. Her gaze slides from his face to your joined hands, to the green dress, to the way your body is angled toward him, and you see her smile falter. Not collapse. Just falter, the corners adjusting, the warmth dimming by a degree.

"Jack." She says his name like she's testing whether it still fits in her mouth.

"I didn't know you were bringing someone."

"Lauren." His voice is steady, but you can feel the tremor through his palm.

"You look beautiful. Congratulations."

"Thank you." She turns to you, and her eyes are sharp and appraising, the kind of look that catalogs everything in three seconds: the dress, the heels, the makeup, the hand gripping Jack's.

"And you are?"

"Mika," you say, and the name comes out of nowhere, smooth and certain, like it's been sitting in your mouth your whole life waiting to be used. You release Jack's hand and extend yours, and Lauren takes it. Her grip is cool and brief.

"I'm Jack's girlfriend. It's so nice to meet you. The venue is gorgeous."

Lauren's eyebrows lift, just barely. She looks at Jack, really looks at him, and something crosses her face that you weren't expecting. It's not jealousy, not exactly. It's surprise at something authentic she sees in his posture, in the way his eyes have settled on you instead of darting around the room. He looks relaxed. He looks happy. And that, apparently, was not what she prepared for.

"How did you two meet?" Lauren asks, and her voice has shifted, become lighter, more casual, but you can hear the machinery underneath.

"Coffee shop," Jack says. "Three months ago. I spilled an entire latte on her book and spent the next hour apologizing."

"It was a first edition, actually," you add, and the lie rolls off your tongue like honey. You lean into Jack's side, and his arm settles around your waist, and the gesture feels so natural that you forget for a second that you're performing. Lauren's eyes track the movement, and her smile tightens.

"Well," she says, and takes a careful sip of her champagne. "I'm glad you could make it. Chase will be thrilled to meet you, Jack. He's been hoping you'd come."

There's something underneath the words, something that sounds almost like genuine warmth, and it throws you. You expected venom, or at least cool indifference. Instead Lauren is looking at Jack like she's seeing something she hadn't expected, and the jealousy in your chest flares hot and confused because you can't tell if she's affected by him being here or by him being here with you.