Chapter 5.
Outside the venue, Nathaniel Carter–Nate to his friends had barely stepped into view before a crowd of buddies surrounded him, voices overlapping in greeting
He offered them a briet nod and slipped past without slowing, eyes scanning the room as he made one last sweep of the preparations.
Clusters of blue roses lined the hallway, each arrangement traming a photo of her.
Nate’s steps taltered. He frowned, his gaze sweeping, over the display.
AN
“These should be rearranged,” he said, his tone low but sharp. He pointed to one frame. “This one’s from when she was eighteen. Move it to the front.”
When the statt hesitated, he stepped in himselt, shifting the frames until they formed a perfect timeline of her life.
Only when every one sat in its proper place did he move on, checking the menu.
“Take the shrimp ott. She’s allergic to seafood.”
He turned toward the stage. “Change the piano piece to her favorite–‘Wedding, in a Dream.“”
Then to the gift table: “Move that over here. I want it where she’ll see it the second she walks in.”
Across the room, his friends exchanged uneasy glances, their whispers tinged with awe.
“How does he remember exactly when all these pictures were taken? There must be a hundred of them.”
“Forget that I can’t even remember what my girlfriend told me this morning.”
“With this much effort… you think he’s really over Isabelle?”
“Don’t start. Nate just has a good memory. If it were Vanessa, he’d be the same.”
By seven o’clock, the party was in full swing. Warm light filled the room, glasses clinked, and Vanessa Brooks–Nessa to most–was
already there. But Isabelle Hart, the woman the night was meant to celebrate, was nowhere in sight.
Nate’s gaze drifted to the door every few minutes, the hope in his eyes slowly shadowed by something darker. His phone buzzed. He
answered to the driver’s voice.
“Mr. Carter, Miss Hart isn’t at home. I can’t get through to her.”
He felt a chill. He forced himself to look toward Nessa, who was already dialing Isabelle with a furrowed brow.
“The number you’ve reached is switched off…”
Color drained from Nate’s face. His mind flickered back to the last thing Isabelle had said to him that afternoon: Fine. I should just
vanish from his life forever.
Seven–thirty. No sign of her.
Eight o’clock. Guests began to murmur.
By nine, the room buzzed with confusion.
“Where’s Isabelle?”
“Whoa–she blocked me on Messenger!”
Nate’s head snapped toward the speaker. On the phone screen, a single line of gray text stared back: You can’t reply to this
conversation.
“I’m blocked too!”
“Same here!”
Chapter 5
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Nessa lowered her phone, disbelief in her eyes. “Me too…”
Nate didn’t realize his breathing had gone shallow. Every person tied to him… cut off.
Someone whispered, “Could something have happened? Didn’t she… try before?”
Another said, “Nate, check if she blocked you.”
His hand moved automatically to a backup Messenger account one with a single pinned conversation. His thumb hovered above it, trembling
“Nate?” someone prompted.
He slid the phone back into his pocket. “She’s probably stuck in traffic. We’ll wait.”
The others exchanged stunned glances. Traffic? At this hour? The venue was thirty minutes away. She could’ve walked here by now. But the set of Nate’s jaw lett no room for argument.
Ten o’clock. Guests began to leave.
Eleven. Nate stood rooted to the same spot, eyes fixed on the door.
“It’s been four hours,” Nessa muttered. “If she wanted to come, she would have by now. Let’s just go home.”
He stayed silent for a long moment. Then, hoarse, he said, “It’s not midnight yet. She’ll come.”
The clock outside struck twelve.
His body went rigid. Her birthday, their anniversary–both had passed. She wasn’t coming.
His hands shook as he pulled out his phone and tapped the pinned conversation. At the bottom, in flat gray letters: You can’t reply to
this conversation.
For five hours he’d refused to face it, but now it filled him completely.
Isabelle didn’t want him anymore.
The blood drained from his face. Without a word, he turned and walked out into the night.
Chapter 5
