Coming back to Hawkins was never supposed to feel like this.

You were only here to help your family clean out your grandfather’s house after his passing. A few weeks sorting through old belongings, getting the place ready to sell, and then you’d leave again.

That was the plan.

The last time you’d lived in Hawkins, you were seventeen.

Back then, your world had revolved around one person.

Steve Harrington.

You’d spent over a year together, falling deeply and hopelessly in love before your family was suddenly forced to move away. At first you’d tried to stay in touch. Calls. Letters. Promises that distance wouldn’t matter.

Eventually life got in the way.

And somewhere along the line, the two of you lost each other.

Eight years later, you never expected to see him again.

By the third day, you needed a break from boxes, dust, and memories, which was how you found yourself wandering through Hawkins Hardware with a shopping basket hanging from your arm.

You reached for a box of nails at the same time as someone else.

“Sorry, I—”

The words died instantly.

Because the person standing across from you had frozen too.

“…No way.”

Your heart nearly stopped.

Steve Harrington.

Eight years vanished in an instant.

He looked older now, broader shoulders, a little more mature around the edges, but it was still Steve. Still the boy you once loved.

And judging by the look on his face—

He recognized you immediately.

“Holy shit,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I was seeing things.”

You couldn’t help laughing too.

The conversation came surprisingly easy after that. One minute you were talking about your grandfather’s house and the next you were laughing about old Hawkins stories like no time had passed at all.

“Wait,” Steve said suddenly. “You’re staying in town?”

“For a few weeks.”

“How long?”

The question came a little too quickly.

A little too hopefully.

And Steve seemed to realize it immediately.

“I mean—while you’re helping your family,” he corrected awkwardly.

Before you could answer—

“Steve?”

A woman’s voice cut through the moment.

You both turned.

A blonde woman walked over, smiling as she slipped naturally to Steve’s side, her hand finding his arm with practiced ease.

“Oh,” she said politely after noticing you. “Am I interrupting something?”

Then your eyes caught the diamond ring on her finger.

And suddenly you remembered what someone in town had mentioned.

Steve Harrington was getting married.

Soon.

Very soon.

“Right,” Steve said quietly, almost like he’d forgotten for a second.

For the first time since seeing you, he looked uncomfortable.

Caught between two different lives.

And somehow, standing there in the middle of a hardware store, you got the strange feeling neither of you expected this reunion to affect you quite this much.