My eyes land on my work headshot under the title.
Matthew Grayson ties the knot.
My pulse spikes, and I take in a sharp breath.
There’s a picture of Matt too, right next to mine.
My heartbeat thrums between my ears, the heat feeding my anxiety.
I hesitate. This is the moment where things could go from complicated to worse.
Matthew Grayson quietly marries longtime friend Jordan Demetriou.
Yeah, I’m obviously reading it.
Don’t hold your breath, ladies—Matthew Grayson is officially off the market… City Hall… one witness… friends forever… sources say Jordan moved into his penthouse weeks ago…
It goes on. A brief history of Matt’s career. Then mine. Our friendship. Something about me being arunaway bride, him not beingGreek. Rumors that our relationship never really ended. A source claiming it did end, officially.
But that’s it.
No lies.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing about Cole.
My gaze drops to the comments at the bottom of the article.
Five total. One main comment with a small thread underneath it.
I know I shouldn’t. But I’m not strong enough not to. I may have just ruined my relationships with my family members—I have to know what people are saying.
I click.
Noooooo. He’s too hot to not be shared.
A smile tugs at my lips. Truth bomb right there.
Lol. She’s so lucky. I keep waiting for a hot billionaire to sweep me off my feet. Holding strong.
At least she’s pretty. I was worried he’d marry some bland socialite.
It’s shallow, but the smile I’m holding back breaks free.
Right? But he’s been obsessed with her forever.
Does anyone know if they swing? Asking for a friend. The friend: Me. He’s already slept with half of New York anyway. One more wouldn’t hurt.
And that’s all of them.
I laugh softly at that last one, my pulse slowing, my body relaxing, grounded by validation I didn’t even know I needed.
I hate that it can do that. Social media. Comments. Opinions from people I don’t even know.
I wouldn’t take advice from a single one of them, yet their opinions of me somehow determine how I feel about myself.
The back door slides open, and Matt steps outside. He’s still in his suit, still looking hot as hell, and still affecting me in ways I don’t want to admit.
