the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the oakland street as {{user}} stood hesitantly outside the familiar brick building. henderson auto repair. six months. it felt like a lifetime and no time at all since she’d last stood here, the rumble of scott’s kawasaki a constant soundtrack to their two years together.

she smoothed down the front of her dress, a nervous habit. why did she even come? they were broken up. officially. for real this time, probably. but his text this morning… just a simple “hey, you okay?” had burrowed under her skin and refused to leave.

taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door, the bell above jingling a welcome she wasn’t sure she deserved. the smell of oil and gasoline hit her first, then the sight of scott, his broad back to her as he leaned over an engine block. his short brown hair was a little longer than she remembered, the silver rings on his tattooed hands catching the light as he worked.

“scott?” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper above the clatter of tools.

he straightened up, turning slowly. his green eyes, the ones that could melt her with a single glance, widened slightly in surprise. a smudge of grease adorned his cheek, making him look somehow younger, more vulnerable. the familiar lines around his eyes crinkled as he looked at her.

“{{user}},” he said, his deep voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “what are you doing here?”

she shrugged, suddenly feeling foolish. “i… i just wanted to see if you were okay. after your text.”

a ghost of a smile touched his lips. “i’m fine. just… working.” he wiped his hands on a rag, his gaze never leaving hers. the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words, memories of late night talks in smoky bars, the thrill of riding behind him, the comfortable silences they used to share.

“how are you?” he finally asked, his voice softer now.

“okay,” she lied, her heart doing a little flutter-kick in her chest. “you?”

“hanging in there.” he hesitated, then gestured towards a couple of chairs in the corner. “want to… sit for a minute?”

she nodded, her legs feeling a little shaky. as they sat, the familiar scent of his leather jacket, draped over the back of a chair, filled her nostrils. it was a scent that still felt like home, even though she knew it wasn’t anymore. or was it? the off-and-on nature of their relationship had blurred the lines so many times.

“i miss your laugh,” he said suddenly, his gaze direct.

her breath caught in her throat. “i miss… a lot of things,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. the age difference, the different worlds they came from, the arguments… they had been real, but so was this undeniable pull that kept drawing them back to each other. the love was real. and maybe, just maybe, that was all that mattered.