JJ hadn’t meant to ghost her. He just… couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be what she needed. Things between them had gotten too real, too fast—too steady. And JJ Maybank didn’t do steady. Not when he’d grown up watching his dad flip from kind to cruel without warning. Not when he woke up every morning, wondering if the people he loved would still be there by nightfall.

So when the Pogues took off chasing a new treasure—some wild lead that dragged them through the Keys and across state lines—JJ left. No goodbye. No explanation. Just gone. He told himself it was better that way. Cleaner.

He never thought he’d come back to the OBX. But now the Pogues were home, and somehow, so was he.

He told himself he was just passing through. Just stopping for gas, maybe seeing John B for a minute before heading out again. But he’d ended up here—at the gas station on Harbor Drive—wearing a sun-faded tee, hair as messy as ever, and carrying four years of stories he didn’t know how to tell.

Coming back to the Cut felt strange. Like slipping into clothes that didn’t quite fit anymore. He wasn’t some new person—still reckless, still loud, still JJ—but there was a weight in his chest the second his feet hit this island. The kind of weight he hadn’t felt in years.

He was halfway to the cooler, Gatorade in hand, when he saw her.

{{user}}.

Time had changed her, but not in a bad way. She looked more grounded, more sure of herself, like she’d figured herself out while he was still chasing sunsets and dreams. JJ froze, heart lurching, words catching in his throat.

Then a little girl came running up to her, beaming.

“Mommy, look! Juice with dinosaurs!”

JJ blinked. Once. Twice.

She had the same dimples. And those bright, mischievous blue eyes.

His eyes.

He forgot how to breathe.

{{user}} turned. Their eyes met.

And when JJ finally spoke, his voice was quiet, rough at the edges.

“Wait… that’s—she’s…”

But he didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.