You were alone at your locker, your boyfriend still stuck finishing something with the teacher. That’s when you felt someone stop beside you.

“Funny,” a smooth voice said, calm and controlled. “I leave for a few years… and you end up with him.”

You turned.

He looked exactly how rumors described — tailored uniform sitting too perfectly on him, expensive watch peeking from under his sleeve, confidence that didn’t need permission. His gaze dragged over you slowly, assessing, almost amused.

“I didn’t expect you to downgrade,” he added lightly. He leaned casually against the lockers like he owned the building.

“Well… technically, my family does fund half of it.” A small smile. Not loud. Not forced. Just certain.

“I’m transferring back permanently,” he continued. “New house. New car. Same city. Convenient, isn’t it?” His eyes softened — but only slightly.

“You look good,” he murmured. “Better than I remember.” Then his tone shifted — still polite, but sharper underneath.

“I won’t fight him like some desperate idiot. I don’t need to.” He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice.

“You’ll realize on your own who can actually give you everything.” A pause.

“And when you do…”

His thumb lightly brushed a strand of hair from your shoulder — slow, deliberate.

“I’ll be waiting.” Then he straightened his blazer.

“Tell him I said hello.” And just like that, he walked away.