The Fine Print

think she'd just said they were out of orange juice. "I'm sorry-what?" she asked, incredulous. You must be kidding, right? Her father, seated at the head of the table, folded his newspap

r to Central Park. She sat on a familiar bench, the same one she and Jasmine had claimed last fall. All around her, the city pulsed on. Joggers in neon gear. Kids shrieking with laughter. Dogs tugging leashes. And Leila sat in the middle of it all, unraveling silently. James Red Stevens. She knew the name. Everyone did. The billionaire hotel tycoon. Tabloid king. The man with an empire made of steel, glass, and rumors. She'd seen his face a hundred times on magazine covers strewn around the penthouse-always in some immaculate suit, always with that unreadable expression like he didn't have time for nonsense. And now, apparently, her fiancé? She laughed-short, bitter, and breathless. "What the hell is happening?" She pulled out her phone. Eight missed calls. Three from her mother. Two from her nonprofit organization. Three from unknown numbers. And one from- "Jasmine," she whispered, and hit Call Back instantly. Ring... Ring... As the dial tone hummed, she watched a little boy chase pigeons, his laughter echoing like a memory she couldn't hold onto. "Come on, Jazz... pick up," she murmured. "Come on." Every second felt like an eternity. What if Jasmine didn't answer? What if she was alone in this too? Then-click. "Leila?" Jasmine's voice broke through, drowsy but alert. "Girl, you better have a damn good reason for ghosting me since you got back!" Leila almost sobbed in relief. "Jazz..." Her voice cracked. "I need you." That was all it took. Jasmine's tone changed immediately. "Where are you?" "Central Park. Near the little lake. Same bench as last fall." "I'm on my way. Will be there in fifteen." Fifteen minutes later, Jasmine appeared, jogging up in leggings and a hoodie, her long braids swinging behind her. She didn't ask a single question. Just pulled Leila into a hug and said softly, "Start from the top." Leila crumbled into her. "You won't believe what my parents dumped on me this morning." "Try me." "No, Jazz. You don't get it. I'm-I don't even know how to say it without sounding completely unhinged." "What's going on, Leila?" Leila pulled back and wiped at her cheeks. Her voice wobbled. "I'm getting married." A pause. "