June 2029 draped Greenwich, Connecticut, in a sultry summer warmth, the air heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass as I stepped onto the Greenwich Academy campus. My navy dress clung to my plus-sized curves, its soft cotton blend chosen after hours of indecision in my Montclair apartment, a compromise between elegance and comfort. My jet-black hair fell loose, brushing my shoulders, a rare break from the tight buns I wore during my nursing shifts at the hospital. Days had passed since I’d faced Justin in that dimly lit Montclair café, his raw I never stopped loving you piercing the armor I’d built over three years as a nurse. The memory of his hazel eyes, pleading and unguarded, lingered like a bruise, as did the E! News headline that had cemented his engagement to
