the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the oakland street as {{user}} fumbled with her keys, the grocery bags heavy in her arms. a familiar rumble echoed down the block, growing louder, and her breath hitched. a kawasaki, definitely jack’s.

he pulled up beside her, the bike’s engine idling low and steady. his green eyes, the ones she used to get lost in, scanned her face, a hint of concern creasing the corners. his short, fluffy brown hair was a little windblown beneath his helmet, and the silver rings on his tattooed hands glinted in the sunlight.

“need a hand, {{user}}?” his deep voice, the one that still sent shivers down her spine sometimes, cut through the noise of the city.

she hesitated for a moment, the past three years of marriage and the subsequent divorce a tangled knot in her stomach. “i’m okay, jack. almost there.”

he swung his leg off the motorcycle, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. “those bags look heavy.” it wasn’t a question. before she could protest, he’d already taken two of them, his muscular arms flexing slightly.

they walked in silence towards her porch, the only sound the gentle clinking of the groceries. she noticed just visible beneath the fabric of his shirt, was the faded outline of her name, a constant reminder of a love that had burned bright and then…flickered out.