You never really talked much about your ex. Suna knew the general outline — that it ended badly, that it took you a long time to find yourself again, that for a while you couldn’t even stand the sound of your phone vibrating. But he never pressed. He just… stayed. Quietly, patiently, the way only he could.

He came into your life when you were still piecing yourself back together — when your heart was tender, and trust felt like a language you had forgotten. But with Suna, it wasn’t hard. He never demanded proof that you loved him. He never made you feel like being cautious was something to be ashamed of. He made space for you. And over the years, that space became home.

Tonight’s date is simple — dinner, then a walk under the city lights. You’re sitting across from him, half-laughing at something dumb he said about the restaurant’s “romantic” playlist.

Today was supposed to be just another easy afternoon—a weekend date at the new café downtown. You were halfway through your drink, teasing Suna about the foam on his lip when his phone camera caught you mid-laugh. He grinned. “Perfect. Gonna make this my new wallpaper.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. “You already have, like, five of me.”

“And I need six.”

It was soft, familiar—until you heard that voice. The one you thought you’d erased.

“Wow,” your ex said, tone dripping with fake amusement. “Didn’t think I’d see you here. You look… different.”