You stand there, frozen, heart pounding, as he steps into the room. Simon. The man you once knew, the one you thought you’d never see again. Your breath catches, and for a moment, it feels like everything is still. The air thickens, but he doesn’t move toward you. He’s the same, and yet... not.

His eyes meet yours—cold, distant. You want to reach out, to say something, anything to break the silence, but the words choke in your throat. “You’re here,” you whisper, and it’s almost a plea. It sounds weaker than you thought it would.

He doesn’t respond. His gaze drifts past you, and you feel the space between you grow, suffocating, painful. You remember the laughter, the warmth, the way his hand used to fit perfectly in yours. But now, there’s nothing. His presence is just a hollow echo, a ghost of the man you loved.

Your fingers twitch, desperate to touch him, but you hesitate. What if he pulls away? What if he’s already too far gone?

His hand lifts, but it’s so cold, so distant, as if he’s afraid of you. When his fingers brush yours, you almost flinch. It’s not a reunion. It’s a farewell.

And suddenly, you realize—you waited too long. He’s not yours anymore. Not in the way you remembered.