I saw you before you saw me.

He kissed your forehead at the front door—just like I used to do, his hand lingering at your lower back like he had any right. You smiled at him—sweet, soft—the same smile that used to be mine. I watched from the shadows of the hallway as you said your goodbyes, laughing at something he whispered, and then the door shut.

It took everything in me not to rip it back open.

I heard the soft thud of your purse hitting the floor, the quiet click of your heels as you kicked them off, the rustle of fabric as you walked down the hall. I waited until you were halfway to the bathroom, already unbuttoning the top of your dress like you were safe.

Then I spoke.

“Hello, angel.”

You froze.

Not turned. Not flinched. Froze.

Like you’d seen a ghost.

And maybe, in a way, you had.

I watched the way your spine stiffened, the way your fingers curled slightly around the edge of your dress. I knew what was racing through your mind—hallucination, dream, trap. I used to know that mind better than my own.

“I thought you’d be more eager to see me…” I added, my voice lower now. Rougher. I took a step forward.

You turned slowly. God, your eyes. Still the same.

And I could see it all in them—confusion, fear, hope, pain. I stood there five meters from you in one of my old black suits, hair a little longer than you remembered, beard trimmed just the way you liked it.

I saw you flinch, just slightly, like the image of me brought pain instead of peace.

You saw me die. I know that. I remember the moment in your eyes when the bullet hit. The scream. The blood. The way you tried to hold me together even when my body gave out.

I never forgot it.

And yet here I was. Alive. Breathing. Standing in the hallway of the house we used to share—the house that still smelled faintly of your perfume and my cologne—and you looked at me like I might disappear again.

“You look beautiful,” I said quietly, eyes scanning the way that dress clung to your body, the one I used to know by heart. “Just as breathtaking as the first day we met…”

You didn’t respond. You were in shock.

Understandable.

Then my gaze dropped, just for a second, to the front door where I’d watched him kiss you. My jaw clenched.

“New boyfriend…?” I asked.

The words tasted like poison in my mouth.