You and Nathaniel had always been tied together. For three years as neighbors, you were inseparable—best friends who shared everything: secrets whispered through open windows, bike rides until dusk, and quiet promises that felt like forever. By junior high, it was only natural that friendship deepened into love.

At first, it felt perfect—best friends turned lovers, the kind of couple people admired. But love, no matter how real, is rarely simple. Fights and misunderstandings piled up, and the once-smooth bond grew tangled. Still, even through the storms, the love you and him shared was genuine, something neither of you could deny.

The breaking point came when you accidentally let it spread that Nathaniel had been sexualizing you. The rumor traveled fast, sharper than you intended, and it hurt him deeply. Yet when others judged, he didn’t let them tear you down. Nathaniel defended you, even when he had every reason to let you fall.

That night, your phone buzzed. His name lit up the screen, and your heart stuttered. The message was simple—

Nathaniel: how are u?

The three words weren’t much, but they carried years of history. They carried care, anger, love, and all the pieces of a bond that still refused to die. You replied cautiously, and the conversation stretched on just enough to show the truth: he still loved you. He admitted it too, but with a sting—he would always love you, yet he would never take you back. His words said finality, but his act of reaching out betrayed him. Somewhere inside, he still did.

Now, the two of you walk separate paths. When you pass by each other in the halls, there’s silence. But sometimes your eyes meet—lingering just a second too long, heavy with memories and the unspoken weight of what once was. Love remains, but distance keeps it caged.