Chapter 984

"You scared me standing so far back when I turned around." I steadied the bicycle handlebars as sunlight danced across the chrome frame. "Though the real miracle is I can actually balance this thing now."

Victor Laurent approached on crutches, his plaster cast glaring white under the sun. "Cycling was my fresh start. When I first moved abroad, I'd ride for hours just to avoid the silence."

I squinted at his sun-bronzed skin. "All that outdoor activity? Can you swim? I know a decent pool nearby."

His eyes lit up like constellations. "Let's go."

My habitual kindness to friends didn't reveal how his pulse stuttered at the invitation. Only when our destination appeared did I realize how time had flown. "Talking to you makes hours disappear. I haven't had conversations this long with anyone except Evelyn Carter."

Victor dismounted smoothly despite his injury, crutches clicking into place. "How's Uncle Dempsey these days?"

Half our classmates already filled the banquet hall. Victor's entrance caused an immediate stir. The class monitor recognized him first, followed by male friends delivering playful shoulder punches. "Where've you been all these years? No calls, no texts!"

"Made it back in one piece, didn't I?" Victor dodged, using his cast as a shield. "Hit me again and I'll collapse dramatically."

Nathan York pulled out a chair for him. I noticed Victor's prolonged stare at Nathan's softened physique. "Typical programmer bod," I interjected. "Marriage amplifies it."

Nathan patted his beer belly but glowed while showing his phone wallpaper—a gap-toothed girl with pigtails. "Parenting's more exhausting than debugging code."

The conversation veered into child-rearing anecdotes. Victor leaned toward me. "Never pictured Nathan as an early dad. Remember his basketball court arrogance?"

I smirked. "Check who he married."

His covert glance nearly made him topple. "That underclasswoman who chased him?"

"Obviously." I rolled my eyes. "He wouldn't even accept water from other girls."

Victor's epiphany expression tempted me to throttle him. I pointed to a quiet tea-sipping woman in the corner. "Remember Jasmine Valentine? Literature class rep."

Blank stare.

"The time she bought you extra time with the teacher!" I hissed. "You'd have gotten parental summons otherwise."

Victor slapped his thigh. "Now I recall! You forged my homework with handwriting so awful the teacher almost—"

A napkin missile cut him off. "Deadline pressure!"

He dodged, his cast "accidentally" hitting the table leg. The resulting grimace sparked collective laughter. Someone heckled, "Vivian Dempsey, after all these years you still can't handle him?"

Warm banquet lights transported us back to high school. Victor massaged his shin, grinning as afternoon sun gilded his lashes with fractured gold.