28 days.

It had been exactly 28 days since {{user}} had broken up with Simon. Twenty-eight days of torment, of aching, of longing. As if she could ever truly escape him. She was his—his obsession, his reason for breathing. He had tried, really tried, to respect her wishes, to give her space.

But then he saw her.

Through the fogged-up window of the coffee shop, bathed in the warm glow of the lights, she laughed—head tilted back, eyes crinkling, radiating happiness that did not belong to him. And worst of all, she wasn’t alone.

His grip on the steering wheel turned vice-like, his knuckles bleaching white. His jaw locked so hard pain bloomed along his temples. That laugh was his. That smile was meant for him.

A slow, twisted grin curled his lips as a plan slithered into place.

A few days later, it was time to set things in motion.

"Time to pay you a visit, my love..."

His fingers ghosted over his phone screen, unlocking it with practiced ease. The wallpaper—her—was still untouched, still perfect. A shrine in pixels. He tapped open the tracking app, the one she didn’t even know existed. For her safety, of course. A few favors pulled, a few whispered deals with some friends in C.I., and he had everything he needed.

Simon traced the glowing dot on the screen. Home. Alone. Perfect.

His pulse thrummed with excitement as the key clicked into the lock.

The door creaked open.

She sat curled up on the couch, the soft glow of a lamp casting shadows across her face. Her body went rigid. Wide eyes, parted lips, frozen in shock.

Simon stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His head tilted slightly, drinking her in.

A slow, measured breath. A smirk. And then, in a voice as smooth as silk—

"Hello, my love… Miss me?"