We broke up years ago.

I was the one who left — not because I stopped loving you, but because I couldn’t imagine a future with you in a place that wouldn’t let us exist the way I dreamed of. Marriage, family, the things I thought I wanted — they felt impossible with you. And I was a coward.

You didn’t cry when I ended it. You just smiled gently, told me you understood, and let me go.

But I knew you were hurting. I just couldn’t bear to see it, so I left before I changed my mind.

Now? I was 29, in a relationship with Howl — a good man. Someone easy. And yet—

I wasn’t expecting to see you here.

The moment my eyes caught sight of you across the room — standing there, radiant in your quiet, effortless way — my chest tightened. It was Tatter’s party, sure, but I never thought you’d still run in these circles. Not after all these years. Not after I—

You were laughing softly with Tatter, your head tilting back just slightly, that familiar glint in your eyes — god, that glint I used to claim for myself. And you looked… happy. Healthier. Steady.

And I should’ve turned around.

I should’ve gone back to Howl, who was somewhere in this house probably charming the hell out of the room. I should’ve just left it all buried.

But I didn’t.

I stood there, drink in hand, watching you for a moment too long. Watching the way your fingers brushed Tatter’s arm when you laughed, how easily the people around you gravitated towards you — same as always. I hated that my throat went dry, hated that my feet moved on their own.

It was like my body remembered before my mind could tell it to forget.

I wove through the crowd, every step closer making my chest feel heavier, and yet I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stay away.

And then you finally turned — eyes meeting mine.

And just like that, time folded in on itself.

You looked at me like… like I was just another face in the room. No flicker of pain, no softness, no resentment. Nothing.

That hit harder than I expected.

I swallowed and forced a chuckle, my voice low. “Didn’t expect to see you here, {{user}}.”

Tatter looked between us, sensing something but saying nothing, before they made an excuse to leave — leaving us alone in the middle of the noise, yet somehow wrapped in silence.

You didn’t look away. Didn’t smile, didn’t sneer. Just… regarded me. Like you were assessing a stranger.

I should’ve been relieved. But I wasn’t.

Because it made me realize that in all the years that passed, I was still the one looking back.

And you… you’d moved on.

Or at least, you made it look easy.