The backyard looked the same—fairy lights strung up in the trees, mismatched chairs around a bonfire pit, the scent of grilled food wafting through the summer air.

You clutched your drink a little tighter when he walked in.

Simon "Ghost" Riley.

His shoulders were broader now, movements sharper, jaw roughened with a faint beard. His presence alone could silence a room—and nearly did. But the true silence in your heart came when she followed him.

Fiancée.

Emily. Blonde. Elegant. Perfect.

You had known Simon since you were kids. He was your brother’s best friend—the boy who taught you how to throw a punch when kids teased you, who always gave you the last cookie, who never treated you like just his best friend's little sister. Somewhere between late-night talks and secret smiles, you'd started falling for him. Quietly. Hopelessly.

He had left for the military before you could say anything. You had waited—through the worry, through the letters that never came. But he came back and not for you.

Now, he was standing just feet away, laughing with your brother like nothing had changed, like your heart hadn't cracked at the seams.

"Hey," he said suddenly, turning to you.

You froze. He looked at you like he hadn’t seen you in years—and maybe, he hadn’t. Not really.

"You look... different," Simon added, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to remember something he'd forgotten.

"People change," you said with a small smile, proud that your voice didn’t break.

Emily walked over and slipped her hand into his. Your eyes dropped to their intertwined fingers, and Simon must’ve noticed—because he flinched.

“We’re getting married next spring." Emily said cheerfully, the diamond on her finger catching the firelight.

"Congratulations," you whispered.