A firm believer in "Exes can be friends," Chassie Lewis has proven everyone thinking otherwise wrong. For almost four years now, she's been happily divorced from her ex-husband, Nathaniel Forester. The sparks had flown and crashed between them a lon...
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Chassie George
"Chassie, darling, you look stunning."
I managed a friendly laugh as I'm pulled into another hug – probably wouldn't be the last of the evening. I stopped counting way before Mrs. Wicks approached me. My middle school teacher who earned friendship from my mom for giving me good grades. Or at least that's how I remember it.
"You're looking good yourself, Mrs. Wicks."
"Oh, hush. I'm getting old. I'm in this struggle every middle-aged woman go through." She lets a finger run through her bun. She leans in as if to share a secret. "Minus the hair appointments, the struggle will show on my graying hair."
True, we're not as young as we're used to be. Mrs. Wicks definitely doesn't look exactly the same, and neither do I, for that matter. The glower she gave disobedient students has taken a toll. There are a few lines on her forehead and wrinkles on the sides of her mouth. As if to indicate the change more, she wasn't wearing her impossibly thick glasses. And I don't have my hair in a cute fishtail braid.
"Well, I can't say it is 'getting old.' We're merely growing up," I quipped.
Mrs. Wicks laughed. "Chassie, you'll always be my favorite student."
Somehow, I made it three hours through the party. I am half-surprised that my Ethan was more accustomed to the familiar crowd than I was his age. Although I shouldn't be surprised at all, given that he must've met them during the holidays he spent with my parents and his daddy. My heart wells as I see him joyfully stuck to my mother's side.
I scanned the garden, finding Nathan I'm sure didn't arrive hours ago because I would've spotted him then. Especially when he stood out in his dark suit and a blue tie that stressed the color of his eyes. He was handing a drink to my dad, which he happily accepted with a pat on his arm.
The exchange was so easy and casual. I guess my dad always wanted a son. Although never spoken, or even mentally acknowledged, it shows in the unchanged smiles and looks he had around Nathan. The latter had been mutually engrossed with the bond himself. Dad is as much a father to him as he was a son to my dad. Not to mention his buddies that has given him relief from a tiring day at work.
As if conjured from my thoughts, Vren and Christian Parkinson joined them. The brothers are exactly as I remembered them. Vren, the older between the two had his trademark grin that may have magically dropped heiresses on his lap. He's made fame out of it whereas his younger brother took dating like a detour around town. Christian's playboy lifestyle won him a great deal of bitter exes. I know because I happen to be friends with one of their siblings – one out of the six Parkinsons.
I thought they would rub off on Nathan eventually.
"Chassie George?"
I turn around to the familiar voice, a genuine smile freezing in place. "Mr. Avery."
