Married While You Waited Ten Years Chapter 1

At the high school reunion, I scrolled past a post from the girl who used to make my life a living hell.

[Ran into the girl I hated most in high school tonight. Seeing how pathetic her life turned out? Honestly, it’s better than sex.]

The comment section was a sea of "LOLs" and "Karma is a queen."

I stared at the screen for a moment, then quietly typed out a reply:

“By ‘hated,’ do you mean the way you turned the entire class against her? Or how you knew she and her best friend were in love, but you used the ‘just one of the guys’ act to wedge yourself between them until she was forced to move across the ocean just to breathe?”

The second I hit send, the comment vanished. Deleted.

I looked up to see Becca’s smirking face.

“Joanna! God, you look so... modest,” she said, her voice dripping with that fake-sweet honey. “Is life in London that hard? I mean, look at you. No jewelry, no designer tags.”

She leaned in, making sure the people at the nearby tables could hear. “Are you even married? Do you have a boyfriend? Or are you still just drifting, waiting in breadlines or something? If you can’t hack it over there, just come home. We won't laugh at you. Or is the reason you stayed away for ten years because you’re still holding a grudge against me?”

The room went dead silent. A dozen pairs of eyes—eyes that had watched me crumble a decade ago—were suddenly fixed on me, filled with the same old mix of malice and pity.

But I wasn't that trembling girl anymore. I didn't flush, and I didn't cry. I didn't bother telling them that I owned the car I arrived in, the house I grew up in, and, incidentally, the very hotel they were holding this reunion in.

I just looked Becca in the eye and asked one thing:

“And what about you, Becca? It’s been ten years. Are you and Steve finally together, or are you still just ‘one of the bros’?”

* * *

The temperature in the room plummeted.

Steve, my childhood best friend whom I hadn't seen in a decade, finally stepped out of the shadows. He looked older, tired, but he still had that same defensive edge.

“Jo, don’t start,” he said, his voice tight. “Becca and I are just friends. We’ve always been just friends. I know you’re still stuck in the past, but it’s been forever. I wanted to get everyone together so we could finally clear the air. Let’s just move past this, okay?”

Becca seized the moment, raising her glass with a practiced, casual air—the same "tomboy" act she’d perfected in eleventh grade.

“Come on, Jo. We were kids. If I did anything to offend your delicate sensibilities back then, let it go. I’ve always been blunt; I don’t do the whole ‘passive-aggressive girl’ drama.”

The table erupted in supportive murmurs.

“Exactly. Don’t be so sensitive, Jo. Becca’s always been one of us.”

“Seriously, who keeps a grudge for ten years? It’s a bit pathetic.”

“Becca was the one who insisted on inviting you. Don’t be ungrateful.”

They framed her "invitation"—which was really just a summons to be mocked—as an act of charity. They expected me to clink glasses and play along, as if my silence was a debt I owed them.

But I’ve never been good at doing what’s expected.

I didn’t touch my drink. I just said quietly, “I can’t. I’m pregnant.”

Clatter.

Steve’s glass hit the floor, shattering against the hardwood.

The table went still. Only Becca couldn't hide the flash of genuine triumph in her eyes.

Steve forced a jagged, painful smile. “If you don’t want to drink, just say so. You don’t have to make up a lie like that.”

“I’m not lying,” I said calmly. “I’m married. I’m pregnant. I’m only back in the States to help my husband settle some business acquisitions.”

Becca’s voice was practically singing now. “Oh my god! When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us? Congratulations, Jo!”

It was the most honest thing she’d said all night. She was thrilled because, in her mind, the threat was gone. She wouldn't have to pretend to be Steve's "bro" anymore to keep him from me.

Steve sounded like he’d swallowed glass. “Married... but you always said... you said you’d be my bride one day, Jo. You’re kidding, right?”

One of the guys at the table scoffed. “Jesus, Jo. Why are you doing this? Steve’s been waiting for you for years. Everyone knows he never moved on.”

He leaned forward, his tone patronizing. “Look, if you came here to make him jealous, it worked. But don’t ruin your life over a tantrum. A woman needs to know when to stop playing games if she wants a happy ending. Don’t blow it with a guy like Steve. You won’t find another one.”

I remembered these people. I remembered how their words felt like sandpaper on raw skin. Now, they just felt like static.

I smiled, a cold, empty thing. “I really am married. And as for those things I said when we were kids? It was just a joke, Steve.”

I looked him right in the eye, handing him back the exact words he’d used to destroy me ten years ago.

“You’re not going to be a baby about a little joke, are you?”