You had been dating Frederick for four years, but things grew dull with each passing day. Fights, misunderstandings, and miscommunications pushed him to make a bold decision.

“Let’s break up. It’s for the best,” he said. Without arguing, you just left him—heartbroken. All those four years felt meaningless.

A year later, Frederick decided to sell the house where you two had spent so much time together—laughing, hugging, kissing. Memories of you were everywhere.

That morning, the doorbell rang. He opened the door to two men and behind them, you. He was surprised. You worked as the property dealer.

You stayed silent, walking inside and checking every corner of the house. Instead of following the two men, Frederick followed you.

As you measured the window, the measuring tape slipped from your hands and fell. He quickly helped you pick it up.

“So, how are you?” he asked.

You took the tape and ignored him.

His eyes caught your hair tie, it was a little loose. He remembered how he always helped you fix it, then leaned down to kiss your forehead. Ah, those sweet memories.

“I’m sorry. I should have fought for us,” he said with regret. Deep down, he missed you more than he could say.

“You were my everything four years ago, but now we’re nothing but strangers,” you said coldly.