The school hall was alive with chatter, filled with faces that had aged but still held the glimmers of youth. It was your 25-year high school reunion, and though you were excited to see a few familiar faces, there was one you didn’t expect to run into.

Phillip Graves.

Back in high school, Phillip had been everything you weren’t—popular, charismatic, and of course, the homecoming king. Everyone gravitated toward him. He was the kind of guy who could charm anyone with just a smile. You, on the other hand, had kept to a smaller circle, preferring to stay under the radar. But, no matter how different your worlds were, you couldn’t help but notice him back then—how could anyone not?

As you made your way to the drink table, you spotted him in the crowd. He still had that commanding presence, but this wasn’t the boy who was crowned homecoming king all those years ago. No, this was the man who had seen the world, fought in wars, and come out the other side.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, everything else in the room seemed to fade away. You hadn’t spoken to him since graduation, but there he was, making his way toward you, weaving through the crowd like it was nothing. The whispers of his military career had reached you over the years—stories of his leadership, his valor, his intensity. But none of that seemed to matter now, not when he was walking straight toward you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

You set your glass down, heart pounding a little harder than you expected. “Phillip Graves,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s been a while.”

He chuckled, that same easy laugh you remembered. “Yeah, you could say that. You’re looking good.”