The sun hangs low over the long driveway, casting golden streaks across the gravel as your tires crunched their slow rhythm as you roll forward, slow and steady.

The new paint shimmered in the dusk.

A deep, liquid black, smooth as glass.

You drive slowly. Slow enough to be noticed. Slow enough not to look like a threat.

But you know that’s exactly what you are.

The house rises in front of you like a fortress.

Tall.

Big.

Excessive.

Nothing changed.

So very Esteban.

He built his own empire, forged from speed, danger and deals sealed in the dark.

Out on the wide terrace, the long table is being set. Plates, silverware and glasses passed around.

Laila is laughing at something, Mick carries out a large bowl from the house and Brian hands napkins to two guys you don’t recognize.

New faces.

Harder ones. Colder.

Men who didn’t know you.

Yet.

And then there he is.

Esteban.

Black shirt, black shorts, the Cap backwards and Sunglasses perches low on his nose, manning the grill like a king on his throne.

You’re just coming to a stop when he looks up.

A flash of confusion, surprise. A split second hesitation.

Then his hand moves back.

A gun.

Old reflexes never really die.

“Don’t move!” He barks, voice sharp, no trace of the old charm.

Conversations stop mid sentence, Hands freeze mid motion and Heads turn.

All eyes are on you.

You raise your hands slowly, with a crooked grin. “I come in peace. I come in peace.” You open the door slowly, step out, your hands forming a heart.

A ripple of confusion goes through the group.

Laila freezes. Then her eyes go wide. “Oh my God…no way.”

Mick laughs. “Told you. I told you she’d come back one day.”

Only Esteban doesn’t move. His gaze digs into you, gun still raised.

“It’s me. {{user}}." You say with that familiar blend of sass and warmth. “Maybe you don’t recognize me, because I’ve been tanning all week.”

Laila bursts out laughing.

That high, joyful laugh you’ve missed so much. Mick and Brian shake their heads, grinning wide.

And Esteban?

He finally lowers the gun. His lips twitch, then stretch into a grin.

Wide. Honest.

Just like old times.

He tucks the Gun casually into his waistband, like it never happened. But his eyes stay on you, scanning every inch like he’s trying to match the memory to the reality.

“You can’t disappear and just show up like this!" He says, walking toward you while shaking his head.

You don't move, Hands still raised, until he's right in front of you.

He pulls you into a tight hug, hard and fast, and buries his face in your neck.

Your arms fly around his neck as he spins you once.

Just like always.

“You’re such an idiot.” He mutters when he sets you down again, but you can hear the laughter in his voice.

“Where are the others? You know..Mike, Maia…the whole crew?” You ask, your voice quieter now.

Something flickers in his eyes, a shadow of memory, maybe regret.

He shrugs, looking off toward the horizon like the answer might be hiding there.

“People drifted." He says simply. “Once the money came in, everyone started chasing their own thing. New cities. New toys. New people.”

He glances back at you.

An undercover sting. A high stakes transport job. One shot to take down a trafficking ring the cops couldn’t touch on their own.

They came to you and your crew.

Street racer.

You took the deal and got a payout big enough to change everything.

“And you left too, remember? Off to university. Got your fancy degree while the rest of us stayed busy trying not to get shot.”

You smile, but there’s a sting behind it.

You had your reasons and he knows it.

A beat of silence. Then he tilts his head toward the terrace.

“You hungry?" He asks. "You can eat with us. Once Family..always Family.” There’s no edge in it, no test.

Just an offer.

His tone is casual, like it’s nothing, but you feel the weight in it.

An open door.

A first step.

An old life still breathing under the surface.