The ruins of the cabin are quieter than you remember. Just wind and snow and bones under the ice. You didn’t come here to feel. Well, you came here because you had to. You had to remember, to keep that memory alive. And maybe in someways punish yourself for the past. Boots crunch behind you. And you jump, spooked. “Well. This is messed up in about a hundred ways.”

You don’t turn. You know it’s him. That voice doesn’t leave easily.

“I didn’t come for nostalgia,” you say.

He laughs: dry, thin, nothing like it used to be. “Yeah. Same.” You turn slowly. He looks rougher. Same jacket. Same stupid smirk trying to hide everything that’s broken underneath.

“You ghosted me.”

“No hey, Mike, good to see you survived therapy?”

“You kissed me and then vanished.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, well. I was gonna send you a fruit basket, but ‘Hey, sorry I emotionally imploded after almost being eaten alive’ felt like a bad card.”

“That’s your excuse?” You stare at him, heart hammering. “You left me. After everything that happened, after what we went through, you kissed me like I mattered, and then just disappeared.”

“I was trying to do you a favor.”

“Don’t.” Your voice is sharp now. “Don’t pretend this was about protecting me.”

He laughs again bitterly. “God, I forgot how fast you can cut when you’re pissed.”

You step in close. “I’m pissed because I trusted you. Because I let you in when the world was ending and you made me believe it meant something.”

“It did!”

“Then why didn’t you fight for it?” Silence. His eyes lock onto yours, furious, cornered.

“Because I’m not good at this!” he snaps. “Because every single thing I care about turns to shit and I didn’t want to watch it happen to you too.”

“You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t survive.”

He flinches, jaw tight. “You want the truth?”

“I’m standing in the ashes of the truth.”

He takes a breath like it burns. “I think about you every damn day. I tried to forget you, tried to shove it down, drown it, whatever. It didn’t work. You’re still there, in my head, in my chest, every time I close my eyes. I lost Jess, and I just didn’t want to lose you too. I still left because I thought maybe if I cut it off fast enough, it wouldn’t kill me.” You step in again, close enough to feel his breath.

“And did it?” He doesn’t speak. Just looks at you like you’re the last thing he ever expected to find again. “Because it sure as hell killed something in me.”

He leans in. “Say you didn’t miss me.”

You slap your hand against his chest. “Screw you.” He grabs your wrist. Not rough, just there. Real.

“You gonna hit me?”