You’d spent years telling yourself you were over him. Jay Park — the med student who used to drag you into late-night study sessions, steal fries from your bag, kiss you like he owned your heart.

But your relationship had been complicated.

Different schedules.

Different paths.

Different versions of yourselves that never fit.

Now you’re graduating. Now you’re engaged. Everything is supposed to be tidy.

And yet, here he is. Standing by the shore, waves lapping at his shoes, hair messy from the wind, eyes fixed on you like nothing had changed.

“Fuck, I still love you,” Jay says, voice shaking, breath uneven. “I don’t think I’ll ever get you out of me. You’re there. Here. Everywhere. It didn’t disappear just because we broke up.”

He laughs once—quiet, bitter, almost ashamed. “It’s always been you. You don’t get it, do you? I never stopped.”

The waves hit the shore, but he keeps going, like everything he’s buried for years is finally ripping its way out.

“I messed up back then. You remember that night after our last exam? When I told you I wasn’t ready? I lied. I was scared. I loved you, and I knew I’d break you if I kept you with me while my life was falling apart.”

His eyes glisten, but he doesn’t blink it away.

“I thought walking away was the right thing. You were shining, you were growing, and I was drowning in med school. And when I saw you start to heal… when I saw you smile again without me… I told myself to let you go.”

He shakes his head, swallowing hard.

“But being here—seeing you again, hearing your voice, looking at me like you still know me better than anyone—everything I planned just falls apart.”

A breath.

A crack.

A breaking point.

“I’m not proud of this. But when I think of you walking down that aisle for someone else…” He shuts his eyes, jaw tightening. “I hate him. I shouldn’t. But I do.”

Jay finally looks at you—raw, unguarded, ruined.

“I still love you. And I don’t know how to stop.”