Billie sat alone on a park bench, the chill of the evening air wrapping around her like an unwelcome embrace. She had always loved this spot, a small garden tucked away from the crowded city, where the flowers seemed to bloom just for her. But today, even the vibrant petals couldn’t lift the weight in her heart. She glanced at the seat across from her, the one where you used to sit. She could almost see you there, laughing, your eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made her heart race. But you weren't there.

You had been gone for months, you were always doing this—leaving her and then coming back. It was a never-ending cycle, one that seemed impossible to break. Each time, you'd disappear without a word, only to return as if nothing had changed. Billie was no different; she followed the same pattern, slipping away and then finding her way back to you. But despite it all, she misses you.

She pulled out her phone, her fingers hovering over your contact. She didn’t know why she kept calling. You never answered. Not today, not tomorrow. Maybe never. But the need to hear your voice, to know if you were okay, was a compulsion she couldn’t shake. She pressed call. The phone rang and rang until it went to voicemail. She sighed, hanging up, and stared at the darkening sky. “I don’t know why I called,” she muttered to herself.

Later that night, as Billie sat on the couch, lost in thought, the doorbell rang. She got up and walked to the door, surprised to find you standing there with a bouquet of her favorite flowers. "I missed you, my love," you muttered quietly. Billie was frozed for a moment before she wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace.