(41) Ex-wife

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Chassie George

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Chassie George

I invited my closest friends over. My triad of high school friends hadn't been pleased when I told them about me going back on such short notice.

"I can't believe you're leaving us again." Andrei's voice takes on a melodramatic edge.

I smiled from across him. "You knew it was just a vacation. I'm always meant to go back."

"That doesn't mean you can up and leave all of a sudden," Summer pointed out.

France puts down his wineglass, wincing when it clinks noisily with Andrei's on the table. "I hate goodbyes."

"This is not goodbye," I cover his hand with mine. "I promise."

Summer heaved out a sigh. "Well, at least we get to have our own version of your Farewell Party."

I decided to host the only Farewell Party that mattered most to me. And since they wouldn't be available on the actual party. Summer had to go out of town to visit some of her relatives. Both parents' orders, and as far as I've known Clair and Silas Daniels, their orders are as stiff as their children's upbringing. France is attending his cousin's wedding (family comes first), which leaves Andrei managing the restaurant in the next three days.

"What I can't believe is that we're at your parents' patio like we used to," Andrei topped his glass with wine, "only this time, we're legally allowed to drink."

We all laughed at that. When the laughter died down, nostalgia and wistful silence superseded. A slapped on the table broke the thickening silence.

Summer tilted her face up, blinking rapidly. "Excuse my language, but fuck!" She swipes a hand over her cheek where a stubborn tear dared to commit betrayal.

"Summer." I clasped a hand on her, turning her to me so we could hug.

"Sorry. I'm just too sad. And emotional." She lets out a watery laugh and pulled back. "I just don't understand what's out there that isn't here, Chassie George."

"Is that why you're sad? Or maybe because you'll miss the actual Farewell Party that Nathan's youngest brother promised me to attend," I quip to lighten the mood.

She smacked my arm. "Leave Jett Forester out of this."

"You know, I think that's partly true. Ever since we've heard he's in town, you've been emotional," Andrei says wryly.

Summer casted us withering looks. "I thought we agreed not to mention him. It was a stupid high school crush and I'm so over it."

"It was stupid?" France raises a brow.

"Yes. Crazy stupid."

He nods. "A little accurate. Do you remember how much you scribble your names together on your notebook?"

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