MACEY
Who the hell is this? I stared at my phone like it had personally offended me. The number was unknown, and yet, curiosity got the better of me. “Who is this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“It’s David,” came the calm, familiar reply.
I groaned. Of course. David. My ex. My “what-could-have-been,” who apparently had no idea how to leave the past where it belonged.
My thumb hovered over the message thread, and I stared at the last text he sent months ago. Yes, I had left it on read. Yes, I had ignored him because, frankly, I couldn’t bring myself to reply.
“Why now?” I muttered under my breath, staring at the screen. “Why does he need to see me now?”
The answer came too easily. He was getting married. Of course he was. Because why would life let me sleep on a gre
