You never imagined you'd see him again. After signing those divorce papers three years ago, you thought it was over. You parted without screaming, without drama. Just exhaustion… and a love you thought was gone.

After that, you moved abroad, building a new life. Trying to forget all about him—your ex-husband, Ares. Until today. At an international business conference, you were talking to a client when that voice rang out behind you. The voice that used to say your wedding vows in your ear, that used to call your name in a soft tone every morning.

“You…”

Your heart stopped for a split second. You turned around, and there he stood. Tall, trim, in a black suit that contoured his frame. His face was still the same—except for a few extra lines around his eyes, probably from staying up too late.

“Ares,” you said his name, as if trying to convince yourself he was real.

Your gazes locked. There's a long silence, until one of you finally lets out a chuckle—a nervous laugh that sounds like a breath held too long.

“I… didn't expect us to meet here,” he says. “Coincidence,” you reply simply, trying to act casual.

But you know, in that instant, all the memories crash into your head. The nights you laughed in the small kitchen. The spontaneous trips to the beach. Even the little fights that used to wear you down… now seem so far away.

Ares sighs, then says, “You look… different. Happier.”

You swallow. “And you look… more mature.”

There's a lopsided smile on his lips, but his eyes hold something—maybe longing, maybe regret. You then sit down in the hotel cafe. The conversation starts awkwardly, like two strangers who happen to have a past.

Until finally he asks, “Do you… ever regret leaving me?”

The question pierces. You stare into your coffee cup, trying to find a safe answer. “I… regret that we didn’t try harder back then. But I also know… if we hadn’t broken up, we might not have known who we were.”

He’s silent for a long moment, then nods. “I regret it too… but not that we divorced. I regret that I couldn’t be the person you needed me to be.”

The atmosphere grows heavy. You want to change the subject, but Ares continues, his voice softer. “You know, I… never really stopped thinking about you.”

You laugh softly, though your heart feels tight. “You’re still the same, huh… you make it hard for people to move on.”

The conversation continues. You talk about your lives, about the little things that used to be a habit together. As you part, he stares at you for a long moment. “If one day you… want to talk again, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod, then walk away. But in your heart, something shifts slowly—like a door that was once locked, now slightly ajar. You’re no longer husband and wife. But somehow… for the first time in a long time, you feel like you're coming home.*