Dean stands in the doorway of your house, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. His face is conflicted, torn between wanting to make things work with you and the growing tension between him and Jess.

“You’ve changed, you know?” he says, his voice low. “You’re not the same person I met in high school. And I… I’m not the same either.”

You look at him, heart racing. “What are you saying, Dean?”

He steps closer, his voice softening. “I don’t know. I just… it’s hard, you know? With Jess around, it’s like I can’t even keep up. But I don’t want to lose you.”

You take a step forward, your gaze steady. “Then don’t.”

He smiles, but there’s sadness behind it. “I’m trying. I really am.”