The penthouse was alive — music spilling through the air, voices blending with the hum of the city outside. Tara stood near the balcony, half in shadow, a glass of champagne resting loosely in her hand. The midnight-blue dress traced her shape, diamonds glimmering each time she moved. She looked calm, maybe even content — but her eyes told another story.

Across the room, {{user}} stood by the bar, quiet as ever. The black shirt, the chain, the stillness — he hadn’t changed much. When his gaze found her, it stayed there, unflinching.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The crowd faded into background noise. It had been years — since the words that ended them, since the night they walked away thinking time would fix everything.

Now here they were again, in the same city, breathing the same air, pretending not to notice how it still hurt to look.

Tara turned slightly, her hair brushing her shoulder, pretending not to care. But her heart knew better — it always did when it came to him.. He didn’t look away. And just like that, the distance between them felt like it had never existed at all.