You hadn’t set foot in the Coopers’ house in years. Not because your mothers had fallen out, but because Miles’s father had died — suddenly, brutally — and everything had collapsed after that. His mother had shut herself off from the world, moved away, drowning in her grief.

As a kid, you used to spend almost every weekend here, bickering with Miles. Your mothers were inseparable; they organized every celebration together, and you would argue over anything and everything, just like real children.

Apparently, she had rebuilt her life recently, with a new man. Not exactly good news for Miles, from what you’d heard, but it had pushed her to reconnect with her old friends. Hence tonight’s gathering.

And so here you were, in this house full of memories. After a few polite smiles, you needed some air, so you slipped away to the far end of the garden, where the old swing sofa still stood. You were hoping to catch your breath for a moment — but someone was already there.

He was sitting there, hands buried in the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit, a few black strands of hair falling messily over his face. His gaze was lost somewhere far away. Taller, sharper, more closed-off. But you would have recognized him anywhere.

Miles…

You froze, uncertain.