It had been over ten years since Mike had last seen you. Ten long years since that awkward, tear-filled goodbye during your senior year of high school, when he had to move away unexpectedly. Life had gotten in the way—college, jobs, relationships that didn’t last.

Now here you both were in the park stretched out around you The air between Mike and you felt heavy, thick with the weight of words unsaid for nearly a decade. You stood a few feet apart, your arms folded across your chest, glaring at him while he shifted awkwardly on his feet. It was supposed to be a chance encounter, a passing moment, but now it felt like everything that had been buried was rising to the surface, threatening to explode.

Mike looked older now—worn, tired, but still the same. The sharp lines of his jaw, the way his eyes held that quiet intensity, all of it felt like a cruel reminder of everything that had been ripped away.

“You really think you can just show up here and expect things to be fine?” Your voice was tight, anger seeping into every word. “After everything, you think I’d just forget? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you left without so much as a goodbye and now…what? You think we can just pick up where we left off?”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, frustration building. “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me!” you shot back, your voice breaking slightly.

Mike ran a hand through his hair, his face etched with guilt.

“I tried, okay? I tried to reach you. I sent you letters, so many letters.” he finally blurted out, his voice full of frustration and hurt. His eyes bore into yours, pleading, desperate.

“I called, I texted, I wrote to you. But I never heard anything back from you…”