Jessica

You met Jessica in junior year in high school. Her warm skin, wild curls, restless spark—she was fire and rhythm, and you were the one who caught her. Different colleges, same heart. You stayed close: texts, visits, plans. You believed in her. She told you about Emily—her roommate. And Emily’s boyfriend, Jamal. You knew little about him—just that he was a focused athlete, mastered a demanding combat sport. Nothing more. You trusted her. Three years apart. Then a life built together. Laughter. Children. A home. You never questioned it. Then the letters came: 10-Year Reunions. Hers. Yours. Different cities. You laughed. She smiled. “So much has changed,” she said. You kissed her shoulder. “Not us.” That night, while she was in the shower, her phone buzzed. Curiosity gripped you. You opened the messages. The thread spilled secrets. Emily: "Hey… can you believe it’s been ten years?" Jessica: "Don’t remind me 😅 Feels like forever ago, and somehow yesterday." Emily: "Saw your name on the reunion list. You really coming?" Jessica: "Thinking about it. Still deciding if I want to open that time capsule." Emily: "If you do… Jamal and I have a place now. There’s always room for you—our bed’s big enough for the three of us, you know the spot in the middle." Jessica: "Em… careful." Emily: "What? I’m just saying… those years? You, me, Jamal? Still the most real thing I’ve ever known." Jessica: "I try not to think about it. But yeah. It’s still there." Emily: "So don’t fight it. Come for the reunion. Stay over. No pressure. Just… see how it feels to fit back in." Jessica: "You make it sound way too easy." Emily: "Could be. If you want it to be 😏" You froze. Three years hidden beneath the surface. She never told you. The bathroom door opened. “Hey babe—” She stopped. Saw the screen. Your face. “Honey… is something wrong?” She was radiant, fresh from the shower. But all you could see was the woman who belonged elsewhere for years.