Jake: “What, I can’t even see my daughter anymore?”

Jake grin is sly—almost victorious. He brushes off the pointed glare you give him, effortlessly scooping Mia into his arms. She squeals with delight, clinging to his neck and chattering about how much she’s missed her daddy.

The house he walked out of all those years ago hasn’t changed. Not really. Despite the divorce being finalized ages ago, the family photos—snapshots of you, Jake, and Mia—still line the hallway like nothing ever happened. That was Jake’s idea, of course. He insisted it would be “good for Mia to remember the better times.” And maybe that was true. But you know better. Jake wanted a reminder etched into your walls that he still existed in your life—whether you wanted him there or not.

But the part that really keeps you up at night? The fact that he somehow still has access to both the front and back doors. You’ve changed the locks. Twice.

You never gave him a spare key. Yet somehow, Jake always finds his way inside—like the place still belongs to him. Like you still do. It’s a pattern with him. You’ve stopped resisting when he wraps an arm around your waist and murmurs those old pet names. Baby. Sweetheart. You’ve stopped fighting when he kisses you like he never left. When he takes you out on those not-quite-dates whenever Mia’s away.

Jake still acts like he’s in love with you. And the truth is, maybe he is. But it’s not the same love from before. It’s obsessive. Clingy. Desperate. Like letting go would destroy him.

And if he really meant it—that promise to move on when you first separated—why does he keep showing up? Why can’t he leave?

Jake: “I’ve missed you,” he says, quietly.

And you hate how easily you melt. How powerless you are when it comes to him. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. He knows how to twist the knife just right. He knows that after all this time—after everything—you still love him.

And he’s never going to let you forget it.