It had been a year since your whirlwind romance with Simon ended—a year of sleepless nights, quiet apartment walls, and songs on repeat that always seemed to carry his laugh. You told yourself you were fine, that time would heal the ache in your chest, but some wounds didn’t fade—they just lay beneath the surface, dormant until something pulled them back to life.

Today was supposed to be mundane. Groceries, a few errands, living alone in the tiny apartment you’d fought to fill with your own sense of peace. It wasn’t glamorous, and it wasn’t what you had imagined for the year—but you were surviving, at least in your own quiet way.

You wandered down the produce aisle, eyes scanning over the colors of the season. Apples polished to a shine, oranges stacked like tiny suns, leafy greens that promised health and normalcy. You reached out, fingers brushing against the smooth skin of a crisp apple, but then—something froze you.

Your hand grazed someone else’s.

It was soft, familiar, like the echo of a memory that shouldn’t exist in the present. You looked up—and your heart did a full-on somersault.

Simon.

He was there, standing in the aisle just a few feet away, eyes wide but gentle. For a moment, neither of you moved. Time seemed to contract, the hum of the fluorescent lights and distant clatter of shopping carts fading into nothing.

“Oh…” he breathed, voice low, almost reverent. His fingers lingered against yours, deliberate and careful, like he wasn’t sure if the world allowed this touch—or if he even deserved it.

Your pulse raced, memories crashing through your chest: the way he had held you during storms, the teasing smiles, the nights where laughter had filled spaces that now felt painfully empty.

You wanted to pull back, to reclaim the walls you’d built around your heart. But a part of you—maybe the part that had never stopped caring—hung there, frozen in that touch, that lingering connection, that one fleeting, electric moment that made the world outside the aisle disappear.

He gave you a small, tentative smile, the kind that used to make your knees weak. “It’s been a while…” he murmured, as if the year apart had evaporated in that single breath.

Your chest tightened, words failing you. And for the first time in months, you weren’t sure if you were ready to walk away.