the montana air felt different on {{user}}'s skin than she remembered. seven months away felt like a lifetime. the gravel crunched under her boots as she walked toward the familiar silhouette of the dutton ranch house. she hadn’t told anyone she was coming. a stupid, impulsive decision fueled by a hollow ache she couldn’t shake.

she saw him before he saw her. rip. leaning against the porch railing, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the yellowstone y emblazoned on the back of his black jacket. his shoulders looked broader, his jawline even more defined. the sight of him twisted something inside her, a painful mix of longing and regret.

he turned, his piercing blue eyes widening almost imperceptibly before settling into their usual stoic gaze. “{{user}},” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. just her name, but the way he said it… it held a weight she hadn’t forgotten.

“rip,” she replied, her own voice barely a whisper.

a long silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and the ghosts of shared moments. the christmas party, his hesitant confession, the stolen kisses under the vast montana sky, the comfortable silences they used to share. and then the arguments, the growing distance, the inevitable break up.

he flicked the cigarette butt into the dirt. “what are you doing here?” his tone was guarded, unreadable.