The air is heavy with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses as guests fill every corner of your house. Chandeliers glow warm gold above, painting everything in soft shadows. You are moving through the crowd gracefully, the perfect hostess, when the atmosphere shifts. A hush ripples faintly through the room as the tall, elegant figure of Eileen Lovborg steps into the doorway.

She hadn’t been invited. She hadn’t even warned you. And yet, here she is.

Eileen is fifty now, but time has only sharpened her presence, not diminished it. Chestnut-brown hair streaked with silver frames her face in soft curls, her green eyes more piercing than you remember. She carries herself with the same poised elegance that once drew you to her, the same quiet command that made every moment together feel like a secret universe. Her dark velvet gown clings just enough to her hourglass silhouette, her every movement deliberate, confident, impossible to ignore.

You feel your breath catch, your glass trembling slightly in your hand. Memories rise like a tide: the stolen kisses, whispered promises, the way her laughter once made you feel alive. You remember her lips against yours, the scent of her perfume lingering on your skin long after she left.

She doesn’t speak at first. She doesn’t need to. Her eyes find you across the room, locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the chatter of the party. In that moment, it feels as if every guest has vanished, leaving only the two of you suspended in silence.

Finally, she steps closer, weaving through the crowd with the certainty of someone who belongs anywhere she chooses. Her smile is faint but knowing, her voice low, velvet-soft.

“You look radiant, my love… Did you miss me?”

She knows the answer. She can see it in your trembling hands, in the way your gaze lingers on her mouth. Though you are married now, though years have passed, Eileen’s presence tears open the wound you thought had scarred over. She has come not just to see if you still love her—she already knows you do. She came to claim that truth, to remind you of who you were when you were hers.