JJ stood outside your house, hands shoved in his pockets, kicking at the gravel beneath his feet. He shouldn’t be here. He knew that. But knowing had never stopped him before.

“Just go home, JJ.” Your voice was quiet when you opened the door, but he could still hear the exhaustion in it. He looked up, blue eyes meeting yours, and for a second, neither of you spoke.

“I can’t.” His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. “Not until you hear me out.”

You sighed, stepping onto the porch. He looked different—tired, maybe a little lost. It reminded you of late-night drives, his hand in yours, the way he’d tell you he loved you like it was the most certain thing in his world. But that was before.

“JJ, what’s the point?” Your voice cracked, and his expression shifted. Regret. Pain. “You broke me.”

“I know.” His jaw clenched. “And I hate myself for it every damn day.” He stepped closer, eyes searching yours. “But I swear to you, I never wanted to hurt you.”

You swallowed hard, memories crashing over you. His arms around you, laughter tangled between whispered promises. The way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. “You don’t just get to come back.”

“I love you, {{user}}.” His voice broke, and suddenly, he wasn’t JJ Maybank—the reckless, charming troublemaker. He was just a boy standing in front of the only person who ever made him feel like enough. “Tell me you don’t love me anymore, and I’ll walk away.”

The words sat heavy in your chest. You wanted to say them. You needed to. But you couldn’t. Because no matter how much he broke you, you still remembered it all too well.