It was supposed to be just another late afternoon in Chicago, the familiar hum of the city filling the air as Carmy ducked out of the restaurant he was helping with that day. He had no idea he was about to stumble back into a part of his past. As he walked down a side street, lost in thought, his eyes landed on a small diner that looked as if it hadn’t changed in decades. The kind of place that had a warmth to it, with faded photos on the wall and the smell of coffee lingering around.

He almost passed it by until a movement caught his eye through the window. He paused, squinting to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. But there you were, in the middle of the bustling little diner, moving through the tables with that easy grace he remembered so well. It hit him hard—the rush of memories from high school, late nights, shared dreams, the unspoken feelings that hovered between you both like a quiet promise.

For years, Carmy had assumed you’d left Chicago, like so many people with talent and ambition did. In his mind, you were out there living some bigger, better life. But here you were, right in the heart of the city he never expected to find you in.

Carmy stepped inside, a subtle wave of nerves washing over him as he watched you laugh with a customer, oblivious to his presence. His heartbeat quickened, and he took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, before making his way to the counter where you were pouring a cup of coffee. When you finally turned and saw him, the familiar blue of his eyes, the small, surprised smile on his lips, it felt like time folded back on itself.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but carrying that same intensity, the same Carmy you knew years ago. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”