Ghosts Of Girlfriends Past 🎁

The air in the ballroom was thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the kind of forced cheer that only exists at high-society weddings. Connor Mead, a man who treated hearts like disposable cameras—clicking once and moving on—stood by the bar, nursing a scotch. He wasn’t here for the romance; he was here because his brother, Paul, was the only person left who still believed Connor had a soul.

He froze. Standing beside him was Allison Vandermeersh. She looked exactly as she did in 1989—frizzy hair, braces, and a "Save the Whales" t-shirt. She was his first heartbreak, or rather, the first heart he broke.

They flickered through the years like a glitching film reel. He saw the faces he’d blurred out: the intern who lost her job because he forgot to tell her the meeting time; the artist who stopped painting after he told her her dreams were 'unrealistic' over a breakup text.

The park faded. Connor was back at the bar, the ice in his scotch long melted. Across the room, Jenny was laughing at something the groom said. She looked up, her eyes meeting his. For the first time in his life, Connor didn't think about his exit strategy.