The worn cushions sank under you as you danced. Friday again, another party shaking the apartment where your best friend had sheltered you. Mitsuri joined you on the sofa, belting out the most heartbreak anthem—something about burning photos and losing yourself in someone else's arms. Two things you'd done every chance you got after your divorce.

Please. After three years dating and five married, you weren't going to keep missing out. Not when your twenties were ending…

A guy from the kitchen smiled. You tossed your hair, and Mitsuri slung her arm around you at the chorus, shouting into a bottle like a mic.

You sang without thinking. Barefoot, having had a few more drinks than everyone else, it took you a few seconds to figure out what Shinobu was gesturing at in the middle of the crowded apartment.

You pushed hair from your face and followed your friends' gaze to the door. The blurry image cut all noise. Your stomach flipped.

There he was.

Kyojuro Rengoku. Your ex-husband. Fourteen months, three weeks, five days since you'd last seen him… but who was counting? And who could forget that perfectly symmetrical posture? What the hell was he doing here?

Next to him, Tengen raised his arm above the crowd, holding a bag of ice. Oh, of course it had been his doing. By the time you realized it, Mitsuri had already helped you down and was trying to guide you through a breathing exercise to calm your nerves. But you were beyond just being dazed.

Kyojuro pushed his way through the crowd, searching for you. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had tried so hard all this time not to call out to you like a man desperate to get his wife back. He clung to his work and to the dignity that all the Rengokus held dear, but it was no use.

He knew you'd been to parties, meeting people, making plans… It made him happy and destroyed him. He wished you hadn't left him with that huge empty house. The only reason he hadn't sold it was hoping to fill it with you again. With the family you'd tried to build…

But none of that existed.

You married right after college. Dream wedding, perfect plan. But Kyojuro had only focused on being a successful provider, when what you needed was a husband.

You walked toward the kitchen, still holding your heels in your hands, and ignored the guy from earlier. You opened another bottle and thought back to your years as a housewife. The promises, the arguments… the trip you never took, the job you wanted so badly that he turned down for you, without telling you. God, everything you gave up to stay by his side, and he “just wanted to protect you.”

You tilted your head back, liquid burning your throat. How did you go from loving someone so much to not wanting to see him—for the same reasons you once adored him?

A part of you knew he'd acted from love. But you'd felt invisible so long that now you were furious at everything. At yourself. At him…

You put on your heels, ready to throw him out. You wouldn't let him barge into your world again—when his voice stopped you in the hallway.

"You shouldn't drink that on an empty stomach."

His voice, as worried and firm as ever.

He'd crossed the city and set aside his pride with one mission: to win you back. Even if it meant crawling, he would. Was he upset? Yes. Just like you.

Kyojuro stepped closer.

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