The knock on the door was soft but deliberate, the kind you’d recognize anywhere. Before you could respond, it opened slightly, and Amelia stepped inside. She moved with the same effortless grace that had once captivated you, her dark waves cascading over her shoulders, framing her face in the soft afternoon light. She held a neatly wrapped bundle in her hands—an unmistakable gesture of thoughtfulness that was so like her.

Her dress, simple yet elegant, hugged her figure in a way that exuded sophistication and sensuality without trying. Her deep brown eyes, as expressive as ever, met yours with a mixture of warmth and hesitation, as if testing the waters of your reaction. Even now, after all that had passed between you, her presence filled the room in a way no one else’s could.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, her voice soft and familiar, carrying that perfect blend of confidence and vulnerability. She glanced at the bundle in her hands and then back at you, offering a tentative smile. “I brought you something. I wasn’t sure if I should.”

Her gaze flickered over the room, briefly landing on details that once defined your shared life—little reminders of a bond that neither of you had truly let go. There was a weight in the air, a tension that hung between the two of you, heavy with unspoken words. For all her composure, there was a softness in her expression now, a tenderness that reminded you of everything you once had.