Scarlet

Reunion

Noah Appleby

The drive to the hotel was quiet at first. Scarlet was nervous—I could feel it in the way she kept adjusting her dress, the way her fingers worked at a thread on her jeans. Her platinum hair caught the morning light every time we passed under a streetlight, and I had to force myself to keep my eyes on the road.

"Talk to me," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Tell me about the business."

Her face shifted. Brightened, just slightly.

"It's good, actually. Steady. I do mostly residential design work—kitchens, living spaces. Some commercial. It's honest work. I build something, people use it, they're happy." She paused. "It's not glamorous, but it's mine."

"That's everything," I said. "How long have you been doing it?"

"Started about a year after... You know. After everything. I needed something that was just mine. Something no one could take." She turned to look at me. "What about you? You mentioned building a career. What's that look like?"

"Metal fabrication. Work in the mines mostly—heavy industrial stuff. Pressure vessels, structural work, anything that needs precision and can't fail." I glanced over at her. "It's good money. It's hard work, but I'm good at it."

"Dangerous?" There was concern in her voice. Real concern.

"Sometimes. You learn to respect the work, respect the risk. You pay attention or people get hurt." I shrugged. "But it's solid. Steady. I can take time off when I need to without worrying about income."

She smiled at that—understanding that I could be here, with her, without it costing me everything.

"I'm glad you did that," she said quietly. "Built something. After Kenre."

"Yeah, well. We both did." I reached over and squeezed her hand. "We both survived."

The conversation drifted after that. We talked about mutual friends we'd lost touch with, about the city, about nothing important. By the time we were thirty minutes from the hotel, her head was against the window, her breathing steady and even.

She'd fallen asleep with her hand still on my thigh.

I didn't move it.

________________________________________

We arrived at the hotel at 7:47 AM. The kind of time where the lobby was still quiet, the kind of time that felt like we had the place to ourselves.

I gently woke her, and she stirred with that confused, adorable moment of not knowing where she was. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a second, she just looked at me like I was the most important thing in her world.

Then reality settled back in.

"We're here," I said softly.

The check-in went smooth. One double-room. The woman at the desk didn't blink, didn't judge. Just handed over the key like this was the most natural thing in the world.

It probably was.

The room was modern and clean—a king bed, a queen bed in a separate room a view of the city, a hot tub in the bathroom. Everything designed for people who wanted to forget the rest of the world existed.

"I'm going to take a bath," Scarlet said, already moving toward the bathroom. "A long one. There's a jet bath thing, right?"

"Probably," I said.

She disappeared with a small smile, and I stood alone in the room, trying not to think about her in the bath. Trying not to think about everything I wanted but couldn't push for. Not yet. Maybe not ever—she deserved better than someone who couldn't wait.

I pulled on my jacket. "I'm going to grab some coffee. You want anything?"

"Already perfect," she called from the bathroom.

________________________________________

The hotel lobby was filling up now. Other guests, staff, the occasional wedding attendee who looked slightly panicked. I headed toward the coffee station and was halfway there when someone called my name.

"Noah?"

I turned and felt the punch of recognition. Logan Nixon. Two years since I'd seen him last. University mate. Someone I used to grab drinks with until life got complicated and we just... stopped.

"Logan. f**k, it's been—"

"Two years at least." He pulled me into a solid hug, and I realized how much I'd missed this—a friend who made you feel like no time had passed at all. "What are you doing here?"

"Wedding this weekend. You?"

"Best man. My brother's marrying someone named Kenre." He grabbed a coffee. "Should be interesting."

We ended up at a table by the window, catching up in that way you do when you used to know someone really well. His career, my career, mutual friends we'd lost touch with. Normal s**t. Easy.

I wasn't thinking about much beyond the coffee and the conversation until Logan asked, "So who's the wedding guest? You mentioned someone earlier."

"A long-time friend, we lost touch. We only recently bumped into each other," I said carefully. "She invited me as her plus one."

"That's quite the endorsement." He smiled like he understood more than I was saying. "She matter?"

"Yeah," I said. "She matters."

Logan nodded like that settled something.

"Let's head back up. I should get ready." I said.

________________________________________

The room was quiet when we walked in. The bathroom door was closed, steam visible underneath. Logan set his coffee on the table and made himself comfortable, like he belonged here, like this was normal.

Then the bathroom door opened.

Scarlet emerged dressed in jean shorts and a white t-shirt, her platinum hair wet and falling down her back. She looked like she'd just woken up from the best sleep of her life. Fresh. Clean. Real.

Her eyes went to me first—checking in—then to Logan, and I watched the moment she recognized him.

"You," she said, and it wasn't a question.

"Hey," Logan said, standing. "Doctor from the ER. Three years ago."

She studied him for a moment, and I could see her working through it. The injury. The stitches.

Then her eyes went back to me, asking the question without words.

"Old friend," I said. "We went to university together. Just ran into him downstairs."

Scarlet sat on the edge of the bed, and Logan sat back down across from her. I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall, giving them space.

"That night," Logan said carefully, "the cut on your hand. I never forgot you, actually. Not many people walk out of the ER like you did—with that much dignity and that much anger."

Scarlet's expression softened slightly. "You did good work. The scar's barely there. The anger was mostly my best friend."

"I remember." He paused. "So how do you two know each other?"

"I used to date the bride," I said. "She used to date the groom."

Understanding dawned on Logan's face. Real understanding. The kind that meant he wasn't stupid about the math.

That is when I realised something. “Didn’t you say your brother is getting married?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “Edmond.”

"s**t," he said quietly. "That's the betrayal he mentioned."

"Yeah," Scarlet said. Her voice was calm, but I could feel the tension radiating off her. "That's it."

Logan looked at me, then back at her. "So what's the plan? Because showing up looking like you two are a unit is going to f**k with their heads in ways that matter."

Scarlet's eyebrow went up. "You're offering to help."

"Help with what?" Logan asked, genuinely confused. "I mean, yeah, I'm offering, but... what exactly are we doing here?"

I leaned forward. "We're not here to ruin the wedding. We're here to prove we've moved on. To show up, have a good time, look incredible, and let him see what he lost. Booze, food, dancing, fun. That's the mission."

"Ah," Logan said, understanding dawning. "Okay. That I can definitely work with."

"There's more than just the wedding," I said. "We're going out today. Before things get formal. Just the three of us."

"Where?" Logan asked.

"Nowhere fancy," Scarlet said. "Just somewhere fun. Somewhere we can be together without thinking about them."

"The arcade's got bumper cars," Logan offered. "I drove past it this morning."

Scarlet's face lit up. "Yes. That."

________________________________________

We spent the next hour making plans. Logan pulled up the venue on his phone. Scarlet, no makeup, no pretence, just her.

By the time we were ready to leave, it felt less like we were three people navigating a complicated situation and more like we were friends who'd always known each other.

There was a moment, right before we headed out, where Scarlet stood between us in the hallway. Logan on one side, me on the other.

"Thank you," she said to both of us. "For not making this weird."

"It's not weird," Logan said.

"It's exactly what should be happening," I finished.

She smiled—a real smile that reached her eyes—and squeezed both our hands.

"Let's go show this city what we're made of," she said.