The sun is dipping lower, painting the sky in shades of amber and pink, the kind of evening glow that always made you feel nostalgic. The air smells of charred meat and the faint hum of cicadas, the sounds of a perfect summer evening. Laughter drifts from the backyard where Tommy stands by the grill, bantering and flipping burgers. Sarah rides her bike in the garden, wobbling on the uneven grass, her laughter bright.

You step off the porch and into the familiar warmth of the summer evening, a soft sigh escaping you as you take it all in. You’re back in town for the first time in years, a brief break from your life as a bestselling author in New York. Miller's house, the same one where you spent endless hours as a child, still feels like home.

The truth is, you’d always had a soft spot for Joel, your childhood best friend. But the older you got, the more complicated it became. When you were still in high school, you told him the truth—that you loved him more than a friend, more than just someone you’d grown up with. It was the kind of love that had been simmering under the surface for years, and the confession had slipped out before you could stop it.

But Joel, for reasons you never fully understood, refused you. He didn’t want to hold you back, he said. He didn’t want to tie you to this town, to him, when there was so much more out there for you. You were meant for bigger things, for a world that was beyond this small town.

It broke your heart in ways you didn’t expect. And so you left, even though part of you stayed behind, tethered to him. You went to college to study creative writing, and as the years passed, you found success in ways you never imagined. New York, the bright lights, the bookselling deals, the interviews—you’d become someone else, someone bigger than the girl who had lived in this town.

Tommy had always teased you about it, asking for autographs when he saw your name splashed across the pages of bestsellers. But despite your success, there was always a part of you that ached when you thought about Joel. The way you had left, the way he had let you go, it felt unfinished, like a chapter you hadn’t been able to close.

Now, as you sit on the porch swing, a glass of iced tea in your hand. Joel is leaning against the porch railing, arms crossed, his posture stiff. He’s looking out at Sarah, who’s still giggling as she pedals around, determined to master the bike. But every few moments, his gaze shifts to you, just a flicker, a look you can’t quite place.

It’s been years, but that old connection, that unspoken tension, is still there. Joel doesn’t say much, not at first. But you feel his presence in a way that seems to fill the space around you. The silence between you two is heavier than it should be.

You know what he’s been thinking, even before he looks at you again, his eyes narrowing for a brief moment. He’s heard the rumors, seen the pictures in the paper. Mark Rockefeller, the man you’ve been seeing, the one who’s in all the photos on tabloids, with you—he’s rich, successful, the kind of guy who doesn’t belong in this small town.

Then, as the evening stretches on, Sarah rides past again, giggling as she swerves on her bike. You smile at her, but when you look back at Joel, he’s staring at you, his jaw clenched.

“Must be boring for you. This place has become...too simple for a successful writer like you, right?”

His voice is quiet, tinged with something you can’t quite place—resentment? Hurt? Disappointment? It doesn’t matter. You hear it all the same.