You thought he’d let go after you broke up. For a while, it seemed like he did—no texts, no 'chance' encounters. But lately, he’s been finding ways back into your life. How his name keeps popping up on your phone, how you catch him lingering in familiar places, or how a gift is left on your doorstep on the second day of every month. He’s always careful, never crossing a clear line, but there’s no mistaking it—he hasn’t moved on.

But today, as you opened your front door- all prepped up and ready to meet your new date- your gaze meets Roy's.

“You haven’t been answering my texts,” he says, his voice calm but with an tone that sets you on edge. He’s leaning casually against your doorframe, as if he belongs there, as if you invited him. He eyes your outfit, before sighing and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I get it. You’re trying to move on, trying to act like I don’t matter.”

“But,” He steps in front of you before you could brush past him. “You can’t just erase what we had. We're not over, don't pretend we are.”