When you received the text, you weren’t even sure you wanted to attend the damn thing; college was so long ago. You had pondered the decision for days, weeks, even. You hadn’t been in the same room as them in years, and the thought of him potentially being there made your stomach flip – in a good or a bad way, you couldn’t tell.

When you decided to go, you had spent a whole day figuring out the right outfit, the right hair, the right everything. Being so anxious over this was pathetic, but you couldn’t help it, even though he probably didn’t even care about you. Would he have recognized you? Would he have even come?

All the people in your old friend group had taken so many different paths, and the difference between your apartment and the penthouse the reunion was being hosted was enough proof. The city lights could be seen from the floor-to-ceiling windows that covered the main living area, elegant furniture adorning the place. You wondered how your friend even afforded all this, but the answer to your silent question was in the gigantic rock around her ring finger when she came to the door to welcome you – smart.

You weren’t the first guest to come, but not even the last. Every face in the room brought up memories - some pleasant, some not - and it was nice to see how much everyone had changed, how you all had slowly but surely found your place in the world, even if it wasn’t together. It was a bittersweet realization, the fact that you once had been inseparable, but now you were nothing more than acquaintances who had shared a small portion of their life with you.

The evening went by nicely, eating, drinking, and exchanging old anecdotes and embarrassing moments from your college years. You were enjoying yourself, but you could only think about him – and the fact that he wasn’t there. You shouldn’t have wasted your good outfit on a person that didn’t even show up. Until he did. Everyone went quiet, turning their heads the moment the doorbell rang, and Simon walked in.

It was strange, looking at a person and having to pretend you didn’t remember the way his lips felt on yours, or the way his breathing slowed when he fell asleep, or the way his knuckles would trace the side of your face in the morning, waking you up gently. You felt the air shift – your breakup was no secret to any of the people in the room.

But you were all grown up now, so the others had enough common sense to try and steer the conversation to something lighter, talking to each other. You decided to go out for a cigarette on the rooftop patio. He didn’t wait long to follow, leaving one of your friends hanging in the middle of a conversation just to come after you. You could still feel his presence, just like you did years ago.

He said nothing for a while, then he spoke up, shallow small talk like “How’s life been?” and “How’s work?”. He was in the army now, a Lieutenant, so he was there by pure coincidence. You didn’t speak much after that, but your hand brushed his as you reached for your drinks, he bumped into you on his way to the guest bathroom, and you could feel the way his eyes always found you, no matter where you were or who you were talking to.

Later, the whole party had moved outside, you were smoking again, forearms resting against the railing, watching the tall buildings around you. “I noticed, you know.” He spoke, his voice coming from behind you, making the hairs on your nape stand. “You used to wear it all the time…still looks good on you.”