Every time our families got together for one of their traditional dinners, I knew it would be a long night. It wasn't because of the food or the adults' monotonous conversations, but because of Masashi's presence. Since we were kids, our families had been friends, and these get-togethers happened frequently. But unlike before, now there was something no one knew: he was my ex.

I tried not to show my irritation when Masashi walked through the door, always with that arrogant smile and a too-relaxed posture. It was as if he knew exactly what irritated me, and he made a point of provoking it.

"I can't believe you still have that sullen face every time you see me," he said, pulling up a chair next to me at the table.

"I'm not sulking, I just wish you were somewhere else but here," I replied in a low voice, trying not to draw the attention of our mothers, who were laughing on the other side of the table.

He laughed, that laugh that I once found charming, but that now only made me angry. "You still hold a grudge over everything, don't you?"

"Resentment? Me? Of course not. What happened between us is dead and buried."

"Then why does your expression say otherwise?" He leaned a little closer, his voice mischievous. "Do you still think about me sometimes?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to remain calm. "Masashi, the only time I think about you is when I'm forced to be here."

"That's too bad. Because I honestly can't stop thinking about you."

The answer caught me off guard. I tried not to look him directly in the eyes, but I failed. There was something in them, something that still stirred me, even if I didn't want to admit it.

"Don't give me that, Masashi," I snapped, turning my face away.

"Why don't you just admit that there's still something between us?"