The music is loud, bass thumping through the floor, but you’re not really paying attention. You’re tucked into the corner of the living room with Kiara and JJ, half-listening to their banter, half-lost in your own head. Parties never feel the same anymore—not since the breakup.

Two years. Two years of fighting, making up, holding on too tightly. Two years of calling it love, even when it burned more than it healed. You told yourself you left because you had to. Because you deserved better. But the truth sits heavy in your chest: nobody knows you like he does. Nobody could finish your sentences the way he could, or hand you exactly what you needed without asking.

You were tired of the cycle, sure. Tired of the toxicity. But you weren’t tired of him. And that’s the difference that eats at you.

A familiar voice cuts through your thoughts. “Wow,” he drawls, standing right in front of you now, “you guys look like you’re about to pass out from boredom.”

Rafe.

He’s casual about it, like he didn’t notice your chest tighten the second he appeared. Drink in hand, smirk tugging at his lips—the same one that used to drive you crazy. His arm slides over your shoulders like it still belongs there. The warmth is familiar, almost dangerous.

You scoff, trying to mask the flicker of something you don’t want to name. “Go away,” you mutter, shoving at his face.

He just laughs, that low, easy laugh you’ve heard a thousand times. His arm slips from your shoulders, but not before he presses the cold drink into your hand. “Always so rude,” he says, shaking his head with mock disappointment.

You take the cup anyway, because of course he knows you’d want it. He always has.

For a moment, it feels like nothing changed. Like the two of you never shattered under the weight of what you couldn’t fix. He stands there, eyes darting to you in that way that says more than he’ll admit out loud, and you hate how your heart responds.

Because breaking up didn’t mean losing him—not completely. He’s still here. Still orbiting around you in the only way he knows how. And you realize maybe that’s the part that hurts the most—because even when you’re not together, he still feels like home.