You and Joel hadn’t ended things quietly.

It wasn’t a single fight, or even a single mistake—it was the slow erosion of trust, the way doubt settled into every conversation until love felt heavier than it should have. When you finally walked away, neither of you said the words goodbye, but they hung between you all the same.

Ellie and Tommy had tried everything since then.

Movie nights. Supply runs. “Accidental” run-ins that were anything but. Every plan crashed and burned, leaving only awkward silences and excuses. Eventually, they stopped asking and started scheming.

So when you arrived at Tommy’s house for dinner that night, you expected nothing more than a warm meal and forced small talk.

You weren’t expecting him.

The porch light flickered softly as you stepped up onto the wood, only to find Joel already there—leaning against the railing, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then he cleared his throat, eyes fixed somewhere past you.

“Didn’t know you were invited,” he muttered.

Your heart stuttered, caught somewhere between surprise and something dangerously close to hope.