The city lights blurred through the windshield as you drove home, the night air crisp against the glass. You had just left dinner with your best friends, laughing until your stomach ached, finally feeling free—really free. It had taken almost two years to get here, to exist without his shadow looming over you, without his name haunting your thoughts. Nathan was your past. And you were done looking back.

Your favorite song played through your speakers, a song that once carried memories of him but had since been reclaimed as yours. You hummed along, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel, waiting at a red light. That’s when the music softened—your phone was ringing.

You glanced at the screen. Unknown number.

Expecting it to be one of your friends, maybe calling to gush about your night out, you answered.

“Hello?”

Silence. Then, a voice.

“It’s me…”

You frowned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Who?

Another pause, then—

“It’s me, Nathan.”

Didn’t he get married…?

Your breath caught. For a moment, you felt like you were back in that room, the air thick with shouting, the weight of betrayal pressing against your ribs. The way he had broken you, shattered you, and walked away without a second thought.

You wanted to hang up. You should have hung up. But you didn’t.

“I just wanted to hear your voice one more time.”

And then—just like that—he hung up.

You sat there, frozen, the red light turning green, horns honking behind you.

The next morning, you stormed into Nathan’s office, fury burning in your veins. His receptionist barely had time to react before you pushed past her, your footsteps echoing through the hall.

You threw open his door, and there he was—looking like hell, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up like he hadn’t slept in days. Good.

“What the fuck was that call?!” you snapped, slamming the door behind you.

“I shouldn’t have—” He stood up, looking at you like he didn’t even know where to start. “I—”