His late and deep affection, I don't want it anymore

Five years after James Gilbert and I ended things, we crossed paths again at a mutual friend's wedding.

Our eyes locked for a heartbeat before sliding away—a tacit agreement to pretend we were strangers.

After the reception, a tipsy old friend pulled me aside, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"You know, after you two split, every girl he dated was a carbon copy of you. Everyone in our circle knew they were just replacements." She swayed slightly, gesturing with her wine glass. "But this Miss Walker... she's the only one who doesn't look a thing like you.