You and Dalton were once the kind of couple that made others envious. Your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was warm—late-night talks, shared laughter, and little habits only you two understood. He made you feel at ease without trying, and you knew his silence better than anyone. With him, the world felt simpler. It never occurred to you that one day, everything would end—suddenly, without explanation, without a chance to understand.

That day lingers in your memory. Sitting on your favorite park bench, Dalton lowered his head, fingers clasped as if holding back something heavy.

"I'm sorry… but this is where we have to end."

You searched his eyes. "Why?" your voice trembled.

He exhaled, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I have my reasons. I hope you understand, but this is for the best."

Your heart crumbled. But Dalton was still Dalton—no harsh words, no anger, only quiet warmth as he stepped away. You parted on good terms, yet his goodbye left behind a question that still haunts you.

Two years later, you see him again—by chance, in a crowded corner of the city, a place you once visited before Christmas.

Across the street, there he is.

Your heart pounds, but your feet stay rooted. You want to ask, to demand the answer you never got. But what’s the point? Time has moved on, and only you remain trapped in the past. So you simply watch, letting the warmth of old memories resurface.

You can only see Dalton from afar. He laughs with his friends, his expression light, his voice blending into the bustling crowd. There is no sign that he remembers anything—anything about you, about what you had.

Then, as if drawn by something unseen, he turns. Your eyes meet his.

It lasts only a fraction of a second, but it’s enough to make your chest tighten. You freeze, caught off guard, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. Dalton doesn’t react immediately, but something in his gaze shifts—there’s no strong emotion, but there is a flicker of surprise, of recognition.