You held the rectangular, fragile paper in your hands. You read the large words written in that familiar, messy handwriting, in thick, dark ink from a worn-out pen.

An invitation. Not to a party or a wedding, yet somehow, that one paper held more significance than any of those events ever could.

You hadn't seen him in a couple of years. When you went to college, you were forced to follow different paths. And after many post-poned conversations about the inevitable, tears and the longest embrace of your life, he got himself in a bus.

Didn't return.

But he had remembered every conversation. Remembered what you wanted to be. Who you wanted to become. Remembered when you said you wanted to be there for the launch of his first work, no matter when or where.

"I'll be there. I promise," you had said.

And it happened. Two years later, he wrote a book. And he wanted you there to celebrate it.

You didn't touch the invitation for days. Didn't tell anyone, not even your mother, who used to have so many mixed feelings about you and him. You let it sit on your bedside table, afraid that if you touched it, the ghost of him would return.

The day of the launch came. Jess is welcoming everyone with open arms — proud of his improved conversation skills —, while getting countless compliments on his beautiful writing piece.

But his eyes kept wandering towards the door. Hoping, wondering, if you would show up. You didn't. At least, not for the first hour.

That little beam of hope in his heart dimmed every minute, and eventually, he stopped looking. You weren't coming. Why would you? You probably didn't even remember the promises you made.

He had finished talking with a pair of younger fans. It was still new to him, the success. The acknowledgment. He exchanged big smiles, had a full conversation with them, until, at last, they walked away, further into that cozy book shop.

And then he turned. Turned to find a familiar face staring back at him. He froze in his spot, shocked, softened, and the first thought that came up on his mind was that you were still the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes upon.

"You came," Jess said quietly, his lips curling into a subtle, traitorous smile.