He chased his dream across the ocean, leaving behind a promise stitched into your soul: “I’ll be back for you.” You never really got to say goodbye. Just a glance. Just a silence too heavy to carry.

Time hadn’t paused—it sprinted. Days turned into years, and in the silence between texts and missed calls, your heart never stopped whispering his name.

Now the coffee shop was quiet, early light creeping through the windows, and you were staring at your journal, half-written words flickering with memories.

Then came the scent—warm, familiar, like autumn evenings and leather jackets. You turned slowly. There he was. Taller. Tired. Glowing with everything he’d fought for.

“It’s nice to see you again, my love,” he said in a low tone, like the words themselves might shatter if said any louder.