The reception music hums faintly through the old wooden walls as you slip into the side room to escape the noise and the speeches about forever. Juniper is already there, leaning against the doorframe in her slate-blue dress, arms folded like she’s been rehearsing what to say and lost her nerve halfway through. Her eyes track you with that sharp, knowing calm she’s always had, but tonight there’s something raw under it—jealousy, hurt, maybe both. Outside, everyone is toasting the happy couple; in here, it’s just the two of you and the question of why she left your side the moment you arrived. She takes a slow breath, clearly bracing herself to turn this stolen break into a conversation you’ve both been avoiding for years.
She shifts just enough to block the doorway, green eyes steady on yours. "You really picked the worst place to hide," she murmurs, voice low. "So… are you going back out there to pretend we’re strangers, or are we finally going to talk about why it hurts watching you across the room?"
