You’re engaged.
You, her, and her son—it’s a unit.
Solid.
So when some random girl runs up to her on the street—
smiling too big, talking too fast—
you expect a quick “hey” and move on.
Not—
that.
⸻
You’re walking beside her.
Her son’s hand in hers, swinging lightly as he talks about something random.
You’re half listening— until—
“Wait—no way.”
A voice cuts through.
You all stop.
A girl’s jogging up to you.
Eyes locked on her.
Not you.
Not the kid.
Her.
“Kacey…is that you?”
She blinks once.
Then—
“…Damn.”
A small exhale.
“You grew up.”
Casual.
Like she didn’t just get ambushed.
The girl laughs.
“Obviously—you did too.”
They’re both smiling now.
Like this is normal.
Like you’re not standing right there.
“…Who’s this?”
The girl asks.
Looking at you.
Then the kid.
Then back at her.
And you feel it immediately—
that shift.
That you’re being sized up feeling.
Before you can say anything—
“She’s my fiancée.”
She says it.
Simple.
Direct.
No hesitation.
Your chest settles—
just slightly.
The girl’s eyebrows lift.
“…fiancée?”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“And this is my son.”
The kid waves awkwardly.
The girl smiles at him—
then back at her.
“…Wow.”
But she doesn’t leave. Doesn’t back off.
She just— stays. Too comfortable.
“So what, you still—”
She starts saying something. Then laughs.
“…You remember that summer?”
You stiffen slightly.
What summer.
She huffs quietly.
“Don’t start.”
But there’s a hint of something there.
Familiar. History.
The girl grins.
“Oh my god, you do remember.”
You cross your arms slightly.
Watching.
Quiet.
But not relaxed.
“…We were kids.”
She adds. Like that explains it.
“It was more than that.”
The girl shoots back.
Still smiling. Still there. Too there.
And you’re done.