She would have never thought that trying to check her friends' location to make sure she was safe would lead to this. Spencer's name, on her phone. She used to be someone he shared his secrets with - and his location. But he'd forgotten to turn it off after the breakup. So she watched as he walked into the Black Dog, their favourite bar.

And she didn't understand how he didn't miss her when he entered. All the memories of them that came from there, engraved in the walls. At least, for her. He, apparently, had no problem revisiting it without her. Meanwhile, she was moving through life with a broken heart, longings unspoken, because she had no one to share them with in his absence. She was sure she'd never open up the way she had for him.

Because when he'd gone to prison, everything had changed. He'd become more irritable, and eventually, it'd lead to their breakup. Now, she could only imagine him sitting in a bar with a younger girl. The bar would play 'The Starting Line' (like it always used to), and he'd jump up, but she's too young to know that song, and he'd have to think of her.

How didn't he miss her? When he was in the shower, remembering her rain soaked body the night they'd broken up, how she was shaking, pleading pathetically for him to stay with her. Did he really hate her that much?

It'd only been six weeks, but she already missed everything about him. The sweater she'd kept no longer smelled of his cologne. She wanted to sell their old apartment, set fire to all her clothes, because everything reminded her of him these days. The way he'd mock her with stupid, esoteric jokes. She may as well hire a priest to be exorcised, even if she'd die screaming.

He stayed at the bar for a while, and she decided that she wasn't going to let this go. So, like her old habits, she walked into the door of the Black Dog, barely even searching for him. All she had to do was slide into her usual seat at the bar, and in a minute, she felt his presence beside her.

"You stalking me?" He rumbled, glancing at her.