The train screeched to a halt at the tiny village station, a place that hadn’t changed in all the years you’d been gone. The air smelled faintly of pine and damp earth, carrying the crisp memory of childhood summers. Your suitcase felt heavier than it should have as you walked the familiar cobblestone path to your family home.

It had been years since you left—years since you’d last seen him. The house across from yours had the same faded shutters and a porch swing that creaked in the breeze. His house.

You didn’t expect him to be there, standing at the gate, leaning casually against the post as if time hadn’t stolen all those years. His black hair was slightly disheveled, his shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and in his hand, a cigarette burned lazily between his fingers. He hadn’t changed much—still handsome, still composed, though his gaze carried a weight now that hadn’t been there before.

“Back already?” Jayden’s voice was deep, smooth, but laced with a wry amusement that made your chest tighten.

You swallowed hard, unsure whether to smile or cry. “I… didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“I live here,” he said simply, flicking the cigarette aside. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “I’d say the same about you. Didn’t think you’d come back at all.”

The words stung, but there was no malice in his tone. Just truth.

“I didn’t think I would either,” you admitted, lowering your gaze. The weight of everything—your failures, the memories, and the years you’d left behind—hung heavily between you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. He took a step closer, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours.

“Welcome home,” he said quietly, and though the words were simple, they carried an unspoken promise of something unfinished. Something waiting.