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“It was at that moment when I realized I didn't know the person I slept next to every night.

And she didn't know me either. The two of us were ghosts, and gone was the person I married all those years ago.

My wife was simply a person I no longer knew, and I had to be okay with that because she didn't really know me either.” — Our Best Kept Secret, Henry Hayes

“Did the girls not know I was coming?” I ask the boys as I get back to the room.

“What?” Grant asks, an odd look on his face.

“I ran into Ella in the lobby, and she looked like she had seen a ghost when she realized it was me. Did you tell them I was coming?”

“Paige knows,” Oliver tells me. “It’s our wedding, so of course she was aware of your invitation. I guess I assumed she would tell the girls.”

“If Ella doesn't know, then she must have kept that detail to herself,” Leo says.

“Oh, fuck,” is all Oliver says before he looks at Grant. “Are you and my wife up to something?”

Grant’s hand goes straight to his chest, a gasp coming from his mouth. “How dare you accuse me of something I have nothing to do with.” Well, that wasn't suspicious at all. “And she’s not your wife yet.”

“Semantics,” Oliver says as he comes over to me. “It’s going to be fine. Paige was okay with this, so I can only assume one of two things.”

“And what is that?” I ask him, but Leo is the one who answers.

“Either Paige and Grant are up to something, or Oliver’s almost wife thought you two would avoid each other at all costs, so it wouldn't be a problem.”

“Bingo,” Oliver says with a snap of his fingers. “My money is on Grant and Paige meddling because they are physically incapable of not trying to push two people together.”

“Hey!” Grant says as he comes closer to us. “I just want all my friends to be happy and in love like I am. Is that so bad?”

“Well, it can be if you’re meddling in people’s lives who don’t want to be meddled with,” Oliver tells him before he looks back at me. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous, I guess,” I say as I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know how I’m going to react when I see her. It’s been so fucking long…” I knew she would be here, but nothing can prepare me for actually seeing her.

Amelia has been the longest chapter of my life.

Where my brain concerns her, all I can do is write and write.

The book of Amelia has never ended, because I never got any sense of closure.

I never knew why she chose to rip us apart.

She put a period down on a sentence where I thought a comma should have gone.

I haven't been in love since she broke my heart. Part of me secretly wished she would come back, explain why she did it, and maybe we could fix it. I swear, every time my phone buzzed, I secretly hoped it was her, but it never was.

She was the first girl I ever loved. She wasn't simply my first love, but my first love . I never felt what I did for Amelia for anyone else before, and for some reason, my heart chose the wrong person to give itself over to so completely.

I was also stupid enough to believe every word she whispered to me like it was only meant for me, every secret look we shared that somehow only made sense to us. I truly believed she loved me as much as I loved her.

But she was a con artist, and I was the guy stupid enough to believe her.

“Why don't we watch something before dinner? I can cue up something funny,” Grant offers, but I feel my head shake before any words come out.

“I have some work to do, so I’ll probably just head to my room.”

“Let us know if you need anything, mate,” Leo says with a smile.

“I will,” I say before I open the door to my suite. “I didn't mean to make this week about Amelia. I’m sorry.”

“If anything, I’m glad the spotlight is off me. I just want to marry Paige as soon as I can,” Oliver says. “Don’t apologize, Hen. This was bound to happen someday, right?”

“I’m not too sure about that.” I was fully prepared to never get any answers, but isn't that why I came here? I knew she would be here. I guess I just assumed she would know I was here too.

“What the hell am I doing?” I say as I slump down on the bed .

I glance over at my laptop bag before I decide to decompress inside Mitch’s manuscript. I need to live inside someone else's mind for a few hours before I have to face the person who used to know everything about me.

Three hours and multiple chapters later, and my brain is so fried, I hope the anxiety I’ll inevitably feel won’t show up.

As I exit my room and head down to the lobby to meet the boys, I can already feel my heart rate pick up as I await seeing her again. The last time I physically saw her was when she told me she never loved me.

It really can’t get worse than that, can it? Fuck, I hope not.

As I take a deep breath before exiting the elevator, I notice only Paige and Hads are down here conversing with Oliver, Grant, and Leo. Paige notices me first.

She rushes over and throws her arms around me. “It’s good to see you again, Henry.”

“Uh, thanks,” is all I can get out as I nervously adjust my glasses on my face. Hads throws a small wave at me that I return awkwardly, eventually putting my hands in my pocket because I don’t really know what to do with myself.

“I’m happy for you and Oliver,” I tell Paige.

“Thank you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she looks over at her soon-to-be husband. God, they still look at each other how they did back in college. I can’t imagine loving someone so much, it spans years, still looking like it’s brand new.

Good for them. I barely scratched the surface of what all these people have been through, but from what I saw our senior year of college, Paige and Oliver deserve this happiness. They’ve been through enough in this lifetime.

“I forgot how tall you were,” Paige tells me with a laugh.

“Our boys are tall, but Henry is the tallest,” Hads says .

“Leo could pass him—if his ego counted toward his height,” Ella says as she appears from the corner of my eye.

“What was that, darling?” he asks her, a mischievous look in his eye.

“Nothing!” she says to Leo with a smile before turning back to me. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Sorry about the awkward elevator ride.”

She laughs to herself. “It’s alright. I was a little shocked, that's all.”

“Henry,” Grant says as he slips something into my hand. “I forgot something in the room. Would you mind getting it for me before we head to the restaurant?”

“Sure,” I say, a little confused. “What is it?”

“I got Oliver and Paige a present, and I wanted to give it to them when we were all together.”

“Is it just a box?”

“With a red bow on it.” He smiles at me before grabbing Hads’ hand. “Thanks, dude.”

As I head back to the elevator, my breathing picks up. Amelia is nowhere to be found. I was fully expecting to see her when I got down there, but I didn’t see her.

I’ve been on the edge of my seat since we got here, and I can’t keep hyping myself up for when she finally appears. Although, if she’s the same Amelia she’s always been, she’ll probably run the other direction as soon as we lock eyes.

I wonder if the guilt of what she did keeps her up at night. I have to think it does, especially since she did the same thing to the girls that she did to me. At least she’s consistent.

I swipe into the room with Grant’s keycard and find the box on the counter. It’s smaller than I thought it would be, and I’m curious as to what Grant got them. Gifts could really go either way with Grant.

I really missed these boys, and even if I have to see Amelia and dig up all our shit, I’ll still be thankful they invited me.

We were close back in college—Oliver, Grant, and me—and I enjoyed being around them.

Adding Leo to this mix has only made it more interesting, and it’s been fun being around him.

He’s got the sort of aura that makes you feel more confident just by being near him, and I’m counting on that to help me tonight.

I shut the door, pocketing the key card before I round the corner, ready to press the button for the elevator, but the figure in front of me stops me dead in my tracks.

It’s her. I know that frame anywhere, and as if she senses me like she used to be able to all those years ago, her head turns, and her icy blue eyes meet mine.

She looks different. Her hair is the same as it used to be—curly and short—and she still wears those floral dresses that used to overflow in her closet, but something about her looks different. Maybe it’s not a physical thing. Maybe I still know her well enough to tell she’s a different Amelia.

She doesn't say a word; rather, the two of us continue suspended in this moment, unsure of what to say after all this time has passed. If we said anything, I’m sure it would be fake small talk to avoid saying what we actually want to say.

In front of me, she’s a stranger. One I know far too much about, but a stranger, nonetheless.

It always amazes me how you can become strangers with someone. Here is this person who used to know every intricate detail of my personality, who used to know all my nuances, all my usual orders, and in between us now is this huge space.

If I think about how many people know such intricacies about me and my life, I might have an anxiety attack, but it’s a simple part of life—the fact that people will weave in and out of it. It’s natural, like the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening.

For example, I know Amelia is anxious right now because she still has that same nervous tick—she touches her necklace.

To any other person, it wouldn't mean a thing. But to me? To someone who once knew every little thing about her? To me, it tells me she’s nervous, scared, even.

It brings me the smallest comfort knowing she feels as nervous about this as I do.

The elevator dings, and neither of us says a word as the doors open and we slide inside.

The Elevator by Lizzy McAlpine