Part 1My Toddler Husband Found Me

The first Christmas after the world stopped spinning, Nathan showed up at our house like nothing had changed.

His mother, a woman who had spent a decade trying to play matchmaker for us, leaned over the eggnog and nudged him. "Nathan, you have so many friends in the city. You should introduce Hailey to someone. She’s far too pretty to be single."

Nathan didn’t even look up from his phone, his lips curling into that familiar, arrogant smirk. "Sure. Tell me what you're looking for, Hails. What’s the criteria?"

Before I could answer, he finally met my eyes, his gaze heavy with a smugness that made my skin crawl. "But honestly? With me around, are you really going to find anyone else worth looking at?"

The room went thick with an awkward, suffocating silence.

Everyone in our circle knew the truth. I had spent five years orbiting Nathan like a lonely moon, waiting for a sign, a word, a single genuine look. He had taken that devotion and used it to build his own ego, never once reaching back to pull me into the light.

I didn't flinch. I just offered a small, cool smile.

"That’s okay, Nathan," I said, my voice steady. "I already have a boyfriend."

Because despite what he believed, no one stays waiting in the shadows forever.

* * *

Nathan caught me outside the guest bathroom, his arm barring my way like a physical claim.

"Who is he?" His voice was raspy, stripped of its usual bravado.

I looked up at him. From the living room, I could hear the muffled sounds of our parents laughing, the clink of silverware against china. Life was moving on just a few feet away, yet here we were, trapped in our old, toxic loop.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Nathan let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Wait, Hailey. You don't actually think I’m going to fall for that, do you?" He leaned against the hallway wall, his posture radiating a forced indifference. "Don't use these pathetic little games to test me. I couldn't care less if you’ve found some rebound."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. "I told you: if you chose Stanford, I would never be with you. You made your bed."

Nathan’s confidence was his greatest weapon—and his greatest delusion. He had been so sure that because he turned down his Ivy League dreams to stay local for Madison, I would follow him like a loyal dog.

He was still convinced this was all a performance for his benefit.

As he turned to walk away, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me. I was tired of letting him win the scene.

"Nathan."

He stopped, his shoulders tensing.

"Is this me testing you?" I asked quietly. "Or are you just terrified?"

He didn't move.

"Terrified that maybe, just maybe, you aren't the center of the universe anymore. You’re right about one thing: we’re just neighbors. Who I date is none of your business. So do us both a favor—keep your distance. Don't check in on me, and definitely don't try to start conversations you don't actually want to have."

I turned and walked into my bedroom, closing the door firmly.

I didn't see him pull a small, crushed velvet jewelry box out of his pocket, his knuckles white as he squeezed it until the hinges groaned.