The gym echoed with the familiar squeak of shoes against the polished floor and the distant hum of the crowd, but my mind was elsewhere. My body moved on autopilot, blocking, spiking, and covering, but none of it felt real.

She was older now—so was I—but there was no mistaking her. Annie. The girl who’d been my world and the biggest disaster I’d ever been part of. She was standing near the other team’s bench, laughing with some guy. I couldn't hear her, but the way her lips moved, the way her eyes lit up, it took me right back to when she used to look at me like that. Before everything fell apart.

I hadn’t thought about her in years, at least not like this. We were over. Done. We had broken up and cut all ties, like ripping off a bandage and pretending the wound healed. She had gone abroad, far enough away that it felt like she had vanished off the face of the earth. No texts, no calls. Silence. It was better that way. Our relationship had been toxic—quiet, but toxic. We fought with silence more than words, let things fester under the surface until we couldn’t breathe around each other.

But I still loved her. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

“Focus, Suna!” my captain yelled from across the net, irritation clear in his voice.