It’s been a while. Two years, maybe more. He stopped counting after the first autumn passed without you.

You left quiet. No drama, no big final scene. Just told him the truth and walked. He let you, too proud, too broken to ask you to stay.

Joel still doesn’t know what exactly he’s more sorry for—the way things ended, or that he never stopped you.

Some nights, he thinks of the way you used to sit on the porch with him, legs stretched out, sharing dumb stories and bitter coffee. Some nights, he swears he sees your silhouette in the hallway, even though it’s just shadows and memory playing tricks.

—“I love you. I’m sorry,” he whispers to the walls more often than he’d like to admit.

And then… it happens.

There’s a knock on the door—three light taps. He opens it, expecting maybe Tommy, maybe nothing. But it’s Ellie.

Older now. Sharper around the edges, sarcastic as ever, but kind underneath.

—“Found someone wandering by the fence,” she says with a shrug, motioning behind her.

—“Thought they were lost. Don’t know why, but I felt like… they should be here.”

You’re standing just a step behind her. Weather-worn. Different. But still you.

Ellie doesn’t recognize you—too young when you left. Joel does. Instantly.

His breath catches. You look up at him with a soft, uncertain smile.

—“Hey, cowboy.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just stares, like you’re a ghost he spoke into existence.

And when he finally steps aside to let you in, he mutters under his breath, almost like a prayer:

—“I missed you, {{user}}...”