Love, Rewritten

The bass of the music pulsed through the floor, vibrating up into her bones, but it did nothing to shake the heaviness inside her chest. Emily Carter sat at the center of the table, surrounded by laughter, clinking glasses, and the chaotic warmth of old friendships. And yet… she felt completely alone. “Emily! Earth to Emily!” Chloe waved her hand dramatically in front of her face. Emily blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Hmm? Yeah, I’m here.” “Barely,” Chloe smirked. “You’ve been staring at that drink like it owes you money.” Liam leaned back in his chair. “Maybe it does. Drinks are expensive these days.” “Only for you,” Sophie shot back. “You still cry when you see the bill.” “Excuse me, I respect money,” Liam corrected. “By not having it?” Daniel added, raising an eyebrow. The table burst into laughter. Emily smiled too. A perfect, well-practiced smile. The kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. These people… they were her entire childhood. School friends, secrets, summers spent together, endless teasing. Chloe and Ethan—the twins—were already arguing again. “You took my fries!” “They were on my plate!” “That doesn’t make them yours!” “That’s literally how plates work, Chloe!” “I will throw this drink at you.” “Do it. I dare you.” “Children,” Daniel sighed dramatically, swirling his glass. “I cannot believe I associate with you.” “Too late,” Ethan grinned. “You’re emotionally attached now.” “Unfortunately.” More laughter. More noise. More life. And in the middle of it all— Emily quietly picked up her phone. She dialed. Held it to her ear. Ringing… Her fingers tightened slightly around the device. Pick up… please… Ringing… No answer. She slowly lowered the phone, locking the screen quickly. “Who was that?” Sophie asked casually. Emily shrugged. “Wrong number.” “At night?” Liam frowned. “That’s dedication.” “Scammers have goals too,” Chloe said. “Unlike you,” Ethan added. “Shut up.” The laughter returned. Emily joined in. But her thumb hovered over the phone again. She called. Again. Ringing… Her heart beat faster. Then— Silence. Call ended. This time, she didn’t even pretend it didn’t bother her. An hour passed. Then another. And just when Emily had started convincing herself that he wouldn’t come— The door opened. And he walked in. Oliver Hayes. Her husband. Her childhood crush. Her biggest dream. And her quietest heartbreak. “There he is!” Liam shouted. “The man, the myth, the always-late legend!” “Bro, you’re two hours late,” Daniel added. Oliver gave a small nod. “Work.” Simple. Cold. Final. His eyes scanned the table— And for a brief moment, they met Emily’s. Her heart reacted instantly. Hope. That stupid, fragile hope. But it faded just as quickly. “Move,” Oliver said to Daniel, pulling out a chair. He didn’t sit next to her. He didn’t even hesitate. He chose a seat across the table. Far from her. Like she wasn’t his wife. Like she was just… someone. Emily’s smile froze for half a second. Then she looked down at her drink. “Wow,” Chloe whispered dramatically to Sophie. “Romance is alive.” “Chloe,” Sophie muttered. But the damage was already done. Silence Hurts More Than Words “Drink?” Liam offered Oliver. “Yeah.” One glass turned into two. Then three. Oliver didn’t talk much. Didn’t laugh much. Didn’t look at her. And Emily— She noticed everything. Every ignored glance. Every second of distance. Every silent confirmation of what she already knew. “You okay?” Ethan suddenly asked her quietly. Emily looked at him, surprised. “Yeah… why?” “You’re too quiet.” She forced a small laugh. “That’s new.” “Exactly. I don’t like it.” “I’m fine, Ethan.” He didn’t look convinced. But he didn’t push. “Let’s go,” Oliver said suddenly, standing up. The table went quiet. “So early?” Sophie frowned. “Yeah, party just started,” Liam added. “Work tomorrow,” Oliver replied flatly. Emily stood up immediately. “Yeah… we should go.” No one stopped them. But everyone noticed. As they walked out, Chloe muttered softly, “That didn’t look right.” Ethan didn’t reply. Because he agreed. The car ride was silent. Heavy. Uncomfortable. Emily stared out the window, her reflection faint against the glass. “Why didn’t you pick up my calls?” she asked finally. Oliver didn’t look at her. “I was busy.” “You’re always busy.” “That’s because I am.” She turned toward him. “I called twice.” “And?” “And nothing, Oliver! I’m your wife!” He finally looked at her—annoyed. “Don’t start this.” “Start what? Talking?” “Fighting.” “I’m not fighting, I’m asking!” “Well, it sounds like fighting.” “Because you never answer anything!” Oliver exhaled sharply. “Emily, I’m tired.” “And I’m not?” her voice cracked slightly. “Do you even realize how this feels?” “No.” The word hit harder than a slap. Emily froze. “What?” “I don’t,” he said plainly. “Because I don’t think about it as much as you do.” Silence. Cold. Brutal. “So you don’t care,” she whispered. “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to.” They reached home. The argument didn’t end. It only got worse. Voices raised. Words thrown. Emotions spilling out that had been buried for too long. “Why did you even marry me?” Emily finally asked. And for the first time— Oliver didn’t have an answer. That was her answer. Emily lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes burned. Her head ached. Her heart felt… empty. Beside her, Oliver had already turned away, asleep—or pretending to be. She closed her eyes. Tears slipped silently down her temples. “I loved you…” she whispered into the darkness. No reply. Only silence. And slowly— She drifted to sleep. “Emily! Wake up or you’ll be late!” A voice. Loud. Familiar. Emily frowned slightly, shifting under her blanket. Late? For what? She opened her eyes. And froze. The room. It wasn’t hers. The walls were different. Posters. Books. A study table covered in notes. She sat up suddenly. “What…?” Her voice sounded younger. Her heart started racing. She jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror. And what she saw— Made her breath stop. Messy hair tied in a loose ponytail. Oversized glasses. Simple clothes. A face she hadn’t seen in years. Her younger self. The quiet, nerdy girl she used to be. Emily stumbled back. “No… this… this isn’t possible…” A knock on the door. “Hurry up, Emily! School!” School. Her mind spun. Her chest tightened. She looked at herself again. At the girl who hadn’t confessed yet. Who hadn’t married Oliver. Who hadn’t been heartbroken. A slow realization crept in. Ten years. She had gone back ten years. Her fingers clenched slightly. This time… Everything could be different. Or— Everything could go even more wrong. To be continued…