You two had been together for a while, about a year ago. It ended when you called it off—completely one-sided. He’d moved on, or at least he thought he had, until the night he saw you across the bar.

One thing led to another. He begged for just one more chance, promising he had protection ready—though it turned out that was nothing but a lie. He pulled every trick he could, desperate to make it work, knowing he only had one shot.

A month later, Keegan smirks when your name lights up his phone. He tilts it in his hand, amused and slightly wary. “Hey,” he says when he answers. “You never call. Everything… alright?”