You had been young, foolish, and completely in love. The kind of love that burned bright and left no room for anything else. Matt Gibson had been your world—your first love, your safe place, your heartbeat outside your chest. You could still remember the way he laughed, the warmth of his hand in yours, and how every small moment with him felt like it was stitched into your soul.

But life had other plans. Your parents, desperate to secure your future, had arranged a marriage to someone rich, someone convenient, someone who could give them the status they craved. And in the blink of an eye, you had been ripped away from Matt. You obeyed, buried your heart, and pretended the life they had chosen for you was enough.

Years passed. You tried to forget, tried to move on, but no one could replace him. Not truly.

Then, one rainy afternoon, you saw him again. Matt Gibson. Older, maybe wiser, but the same fire in his eyes. He was standing outside a café, drenched from the storm, and for a moment, time froze.

“(Y/N)?” he said, disbelief and warmth in his voice.

“It’s… me,” you whispered, your heart threatening to escape your chest.

The days that followed were surreal. You ran into each other more often—first coincidental, then intentional. Coffee dates turned into long walks, long walks into late-night talks. Slowly, the distance carved by years melted away, replaced by the old comfort that only true love could provide.

One evening, sitting on a park bench as the sun set behind the city skyline, Matt took your hand, the same way he used to.

“I meant it,” he said softly, eyes locked on yours. “Back then, I would have waited for you forever. And even now… even after everything… I’m still here.”

Your throat tightened. “Matt… you got married too. You… you moved on.”

“I tried,” he admitted, voice low. “But you were always… you. Nothing else mattered. I didn’t think I’d ever get a second chance, but here we are. And if you’ll let me… I’ll wait again. I don’t care how long it takes.”