Echoes of a Lost Love

"Scarlett, are you even listening?" Karl Compton, Shawn Quinn's best friend, plopped down next to me at the reunion.

He rambled on, sounding impatient, "You know how much Shawn hates his family. He didn't take a dime from them when he started his company. But for your diploma, he groveled to his dad."

Curious or mocking gazes came from the other classmates.

Honestly, hearing that name after five years felt foreign. The burning love I'd once carried for him had long since fizzled, drowned in the relentless tide of time.

Five years ago, I'd boarded a plane without a goodbye, so few people here knew I was married now.

I just wasn't sure if Karl's words were his own or if Shawn put him up to it.

Either way, it didn't matter.

I pressed my lips together. "Shawn and I are ancient history. What you're saying doesn't mean anything to me."

Karl's jaw dropped, and the room's chatter hiccupped into silence.

After all, I chased Shawn for three years, made a huge scene, and nearly got the school leadership involved.

I used to buy him breakfast every day, rain or shine. When his stomach acted up, I braved snowstorms to get him medicine.

If a girl confessed to him, I'd show up to stake my claim. When he needed money for his startup, I emptied my savings and even sold my 16th birthday gift.

Behind closed doors, I ate cheap food for a semester. Before that, I had always lived in abundance.

My efforts paid off, or so I thought. Shawn finally said yes, and for a while, he was the boyfriend of my dreams.

He'd take good care of me during my cramps, carry me piggyback when my heels betrayed me, and shut down anyone who called me a simp.