Chapter 23
A year later, Elena received a text from Freya: her best friend was getting married and wanted her as a bridesmaid! Elena was overjoyed, dropping everything to book the next flight out. Jasper inevitably heard the news through his sister. His hand froze mid-signature before he carefully lowered his eyes, feigning casual interest as he asked, “Moving pretty fast with the wedding, isn’t she?”
Throughout the year, he’d pieced together fragments of Freya’s life from Elena’s updates, including that she had found a boyfriend who apparently treated her exceptionally well. But marriage? Already? Jasper couldn’t identify the sensation crushing his chest. His vision blurred, making the contracts before him swim. From Elena’s phone on speaker, he heard Freya’s voice carrying a lightness he barely recognized.
“It just feels right, you know? When you meet someone who gets you, why wait around?”
Her tone held an unmistakable undercurrent of contentment.
Elena continued stuffing clothes into her carry-on. “For sure. But are you guys settling overseas for good? I’m getting tired of these transatlantic flights. You could visit me once in a while, you know.” She mock-complained while zipping her suitcase shut. Turning to Jasper, she gave a quick wave. “Later, bro!”
Jasper said nothing. Only after Elena had disappeared from view and Freya’s voice had faded did he slowly set down his pen and press his palm against his forehead. Tears fell without permission. His chest constricted until breathing became painful. So this was what it felt like—watching the woman you love build a life with someone else. He had truly lost Freya forever.
His shoulders shook with silent, choking sobs.
Another year passed, and Elena got married too. Freya returned to New York to fulfill her promise as bridesmaid. It had been two years since he’d seen her. Jasper maintained his composure as he placed his sister’s hand in her husband’s, but the moment the ritual concluded, his eyes locked involuntarily on Freya. Her bridesmaid dress was understated elegance, stealing his breath. He stood motionless, afraid any sudden movement might shatter the illusion.
After the ceremony, Jasper accompanied Elena for the obligatory toast rounds. When they reached Freya’s table, Elena practically squealed.
“Freya! Get over here!”
Jasper nodded stiffly. “Freya. It’s been a while.” He extended his champagne flute, which clinked against hers. The sound echoed through his hammering heart.
A tall man approached, diverting Freya’s attention and intercepting her glass.
“Sorry about that. No alcohol for her right now. I’ll take this bit.”
Freya’s cheeks colored deeply. Elena’s jaw dropped.
“Walt, are you serious? Seriously, are you pregnant and didn’t tell me? What happened to ‘best friends forever’?”
Freya laughed, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s barely four weeks, Lena. We were waiting until the first trimester; it’s still early.”
Elena wouldn’t hear it. She immediately declared herself godmother, reverently placing her hand on Freya’s still-flat stomach. Matteo Bellini gazed at his wife with undisguised adoration, while Freya radiated quiet joy.
The three of them formed a tight circle of shared excitement, with Jasper standing just outside it, like a ghost at the feast. So this was the best possible ending—becoming nothing more than acquaintances who nodded politely when their paths crossed.
He stared at Freya’s glowing face, her graceful movements, the easy way she leaned against her husband. His heart throbbed with a pain so familiar it had become part of him. Raising his glass one final time, he murmured, “Congratulations. I’m glad you found your happiness.”
He drained his champagne in one go, the alcohol burning far more fiercely than he remembered. He slipped away quietly, no longer an intrusion on their perfect moment. A breeze stirred the decorations, and Freya glanced up to find the spot where Jasper had stood now empty. She blinked in momentary confusion, then shook her head slightly. The people who truly mattered were already by her side.