The Invitation

Chapter One: The Invitation

Ethan's POV

I didn’t expect much when I opened the mail that morning. Bills, maybe a flyer for a local pizza joint, or yet another notice from my landlord about “building improvements” that never actually happened. But when I saw HIS name on the envelope, my breath caught.  

Liam Carter. My ex-boyfriend. 

With shaky hands, I ripped it open, and there it was—a wedding invitation, embossed in gold foil and scented with some absurdly expensive cologne he used to wear. My eyes skimmed the elegant calligraphy, but the words blurred as my mind raced.  

Liam Carter and Owen Taylor request the pleasure of your company at their wedding.

Three months. Three measly months since we broke up after a three-year relationship, and he was already tying the knot? My stomach churned, bile rising at the thought. My first reaction was disbelief. Then rage.  

How long had he been planning this? How long had Owen been in the picture? Was it even possible to fall in love and plan a wedding in three months, or—my heart sank—had Liam been cheating on me all along?  

Damn it! 

A sharp crack snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. I looked down to find my knuckles white, the invitation crumpled in my grip. I flattened it out on the counter, inhaling deeply, but the anger lingered, hot and persistent.  

Ava, my best friend, was perched on the couch, munching on a bag of chips as she scrolled through her phone. She glanced up at me and immediately noticed my thunderous expression.  

“Uh-oh. What’s wrong now? Did your landlord finally cut the water off?” she asked, popping another chip into her mouth.  

I marched over and thrust the invitation into her hands. She read it, her green eyes widening before she let out a low whistle.  

“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “This guy has the audacity to invite you to his wedding? What kind of psychopath does that?”  

“The kind I dated for three years,” I muttered, pacing back and forth.  

Ava hesitated before suggesting, “You don’t have to go, you know. You could just, I don’t know, burn this and pretend it never existed?”  

“Skip it? Absolutely not!” I snapped, halting my frantic steps. “If I don’t show up, it’ll look like I’m hiding, like I’m still broken over him. I’m not giving Liam that satisfaction.”  

“Okay, but…” Ava frowned. “Showing up alone might not be the power move you’re hoping for.”  

“Exactly,” I said, snapping my fingers. “That’s why I need a date. A fake boyfriend who’s charming, confident, and—”  

“Hotter than Liam?” Ava smirked, arching a brow.  

“Obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes.  

The next two days were a disaster. Dating apps, acquaintances, even Ava’s barista coworkers—none were suitable. By Saturday, I was ready to give up. That’s when I heard the commotion outside.  

Boxes thudded onto the pavement, followed by a frustrated “Damn it!” Curious, I peeked out my window to see a moving van parked in front of the neighboring apartment.  

That’s when I saw him.  

He stood by the van, struggling with an oversized box, his fluffy brown curls glinting in the sunlight. He looked young—mid-twenties, maybe—with piercing grey eyes and an effortless charm.  

“New neighbor,” I muttered to myself. Without thinking, I grabbed my jacket and headed downstairs.  

“Need a hand?” I asked, stepping onto the sidewalk.  

He turned to me, startled, and then smiled—a radiant, disarming smile that sent an unexpected flutter through my chest. “Thanks, but I’ve got it,” he said, though the box wobbled in his arms.  

Ignoring his protest, I grabbed the other side and helped him carry it inside. His apartment was sparsely furnished but cozy, with sunlight streaming through large windows.  

 “Where do you want this?” I asked.  

“Just set it by the wall,” he said, gesturing.  

Once the box was down, he let out a breath. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”  

“Anytime,” I said, brushing off my hands.  

 I then introduced myself. “I’m Ethan. I live next door.”  

“Riley,” he replied, extending a hand. His grip was firm, his palm warm.  

Riley’s eyes landed on the rest of the boxes stacked outside. “Actually, there’s... uh... more.”  

I laughed, rolling up my sleeves. “Of course there is. Let’s get to it.”  

Over the next hour, we hauled box after box into his apartment. As we worked, Riley chatted about his move.  

“So, what brought you here?” I asked as we set another box down.  

“Needed a change,” he said with a shrug. “I’m a freelance photographer, so I figured, why not move somewhere inspiring?”  

“Welcome to the building,” I said. “It’s inspiring, all right. Mostly if you’re into cracked walls and loud neighbors.”  

Riley chuckled. “Sounds charming.”  

When we finished, Riley wiped his brow and turned to me with an easy smile. “You deserve a coffee for that. I was going to brew some—care to join me?”  

I hesitated. He was cute. And I had nothing better to do. “Why not?”  

Riley’s kitchen was small but tidy, his coffee maker humming softly. He handed me a steaming mug.  

“So, what about you?” he asked, leaning against the counter. “What do you do?”  

“Graphic design,” I said, sipping my coffee. “And sometimes hauling boxes for neighbors, apparently.”  

Riley laughed, a warm, deep sound. “Well, if you ever need photos for your projects, let me know. I owe you.”  

As we chatted, I felt oddly comfortable. Riley had this effortless charm that made talking easy. That’s when an idea struck me.  

He could be perfect.

My heart raced as I considered the absurdity of the plan. Yet, before I could second-guess myself, I leaned forward, meeting his curious gaze.  

“Hey, Riley,” I said, setting my mug down.  

“Yeah?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.  

“This is going to sound... strange. But I have a favor to ask.”  

His brows furrowed in curiosity. “What kind of favor?”  

I hesitated, my pulse quickening. I took a deep breath. “Would you be willing to be my boyfriend?”