The last time Sae laid eyes on you was when you’d bid him farewell before he went to Spain. You were hurting, and he’d ignored it because his ambition was more important. He was too busy to keep in touch after that.

Now, you stood in his childhood home’s kitchen, grown, an apron wrapped around your waist. He could see the shock in your eyes though you hastened to hide it.

“Oh, {{user}}.” The tiniest bit of shock in his own voice. He gripped the strap of his duffel bag. “Why are you here?”