The Night Everything Changed
I was just finishing up Jace’s favorite meal—meatloaf smothered in gravy, creamy mashed potatoes, and crisp green beans—when the front door burst open.
“Hey, stranger!” Jace’s voice boomed through the house like a foghorn.
I turned, grinning, as he dropped his duffel bag with a thud. His boots were dusty from the road, his dark hair a little messy, but his smile? Pure sunshine.
His eyes locked onto the plate in my hands. “No way. Meatloaf?”
I laughed. “With extra gravy, just how you like it.”
Jace groaned like he’d just won the lottery. “Marry me.”
From the couch, my girlfriend Kaylee let out a soft chuckle. This was the first time they were meeting—Jace was a long-haul trucker, gone for weeks at a time, and last visit, Kaylee had been out of town.
I’d been nervous about this moment. Jace was my oldest friend, the kind of guy who showed up with stories from the road and made my tiny apartment feel like home. Kaylee and I had only been living together for two months, and I wanted them to get along.
Dinner started off fine. Jace dug into his food like a man who’d been surviving on gas station snacks for weeks. Meanwhile, Kaylee picked at a salad she’d made for herself.
Jace glanced at her plate, then at mine. “Not a meatloaf fan?” he asked casually.
Kaylee shrugged. “Not really. Or gravy. Or mashed potatoes.”
Jace’s eyebrows shot up. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then just nodded and took another bite.
Then—disaster.
My mom called, frantic. “There’s water everywhere! The pipe under the sink burst!”
I hesitated, looking between Jace and Kaylee.
“Go,” Kaylee said, waving me off. “We’ll be fine.”
We were not fine.
When I got back an hour later, the air in the apartment was thick with tension. Jace and Kaylee sat on opposite ends of the couch, staring at the TV like they were strangers in a doctor’s waiting room.
Kaylee stood the second I walked in. “I’m going to bed,” she muttered, avoiding my eyes.
I turned to Jace. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. Just watched some TV.”
But his voice was too light, too careful.
The next day, things got weirder. Kaylee skipped breakfast. She dodged lunch. Every time Jace was in the room, she found an excuse to leave.
Finally, the moment Jace’s truck rumbled out of the driveway, Kaylee grabbed my arm.
“We need to talk.”
My stomach dropped.
“He can’t stay here anymore,” she said, her voice shaking. “Not after what he said last night.”
I stared at her. “What did he say?”
Her eyes welled up. “He told me I was ungrateful for not eating your cooking. Then he said…” She took a deep breath. “‘If I were in your place, I wouldn’t do that.'”
I frowned. That didn’t sound like Jace.
But then she dropped the bomb.
“I pushed him, and he admitted it.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “He’s in love with you.”
The room spun.
Jace? In love with me?
I wanted to argue, to say she was wrong—but then I remembered the way my heart jumped every time he walked through the door. The way I always counted down the days until his next visit.
Had I been lying to myself this whole time?
I needed space. I told Jace I was helping my mom again, but really, I spent the night staring at her ceiling, my mind racing.
The next day, I met Jace at our old diner, the one where we used to drink terrible coffee and laugh for hours.
He sat across from me, his hands wrapped around his mug, and didn’t even wait for me to ask.
“Kaylee told you, huh?”
I nodded. “Is it true?”
He let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to say it, but… I don’t regret it.”
And just like that, everything clicked into place.
When I got home, Kaylee was folding laundry, her movements stiff. I tried to explain, but the words tangled in my throat.
She held up a hand. “You don’t have to say it. I already knew.”
My chest ached. “I’m so sorry.”
She gave me a sad smile. “You two fit. I saw it before you did.”
We packed her things in silence. At the door, she hugged me tight.
Three years later, Jace and I sent her a wedding invitation.
We never expected her to come.
But as we lined up for photos, I spotted her at the edge of the courtyard—her blue dress fluttering in the breeze, a quiet smile on her face.
I rushed over and pulled her into a hug.
She whispered in my ear, just like she had that last day:
“I told you you’d be happy together.”
And she was right.