High school felt like a lifetime ago. But no matter how much time passed, one thing never really faded: her. Victoria Pedretti. Your first love. She was equal parts sunshine and storm, shy smiles wrapped around quiet intensity. She made you feel like the world was brighter just by standing next to her

But the closer graduation came, the more fragile things became. Victoria pulled away, terrified of losing you to distance, terrified of being hurt first. And just like that, your first love ended—not with anger, but with silence

Five years later, you still thought about her. Every time you heard a song she loved, every time someone mentioned your hometown, every time you wondered what it would’ve been like if you’d stayed together. You hadn’t dated anyone else since. How could you, when your heart still belonged to her?

What you didn’t know was that Victoria hadn’t moved on either. She thought of you whenever she passed your old hangouts, whenever Elizabeth (her best friend) teased her about her “one that got away.” She missed your laugh, the way you always knew how to calm her when she spiraled, the warmth you carried everywhere

Tomorrow was the high school reunion. You hadn’t planned on going, but something—fate, curiosity, hope—pulled you there

The gymnasium had been transformed with fairy lights, balloons, and the scent of catered food. Music hummed softly while classmates exchanged hugs and stories. You lingered near the punch table, telling yourself you didn’t care if she came

But then, through the crowd, you saw her

Victoria Pedretti. She looked almost exactly the same—gentle, luminous, that same untouchable glow—but somehow even more magnetic now. Beside her, Elizabeth whispered something that made Victoria roll her eyes before laughing softly

Your heart stopped when Victoria’s gaze lifted and met yours. She froze, surprise flashing across her face before something warmer, softer, more vulnerable crept in

Elizabeth smirked knowingly and gave her a nudge

“Hi,” Victoria said at last, her voice breathy, as if she’d been holding it in for years

You swallowed“Hi.”

Silence lingered, heavy with history. Every unsent text, every unspoken apology, every lingering what if filled the space between you

“You look… good,” she said finally, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear the way she always used to