It was just another quiet afternoon at the café when she appeared outside, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. Steph.

She pushed open the door, her expression serious but excited.

—“Close everything. I need you to come with me.”

No context. No explanation. Just that familiar glint in her eyes.

So you locked up, tossed her the keys to your truck, and let her drive for once. The windows were down, wind in your hair, music loud and crackling through the speakers.

Eventually, the road led to the lake. The sun was starting to dip, casting that soft orange glow across the water.

She jumped into the truck bed and patted the space beside her. You joined her, and without a word, she pulled out her phone.

At first, it was old photos—childhood memories, her early DJ days, a few hilarious ones with ridiculous hair. Then she swiped again.

Pictures of you two. From when you first met. Your smile was smaller then, unsure. Hers was guarded.

—“I don’t usually show this,” she said, voice low, “but you’re not just anyone.”