The air still carried his cologne.
That familiar scent the one Avery used to bury her face in when the world got too loud. It clung to the space between them like time had never moved.
She stood frozen in front of Elijah, the café's golden lights flickering across his face. He looked older, softer, but his eyes those stormy gray eyes hadn't changed at all.
"Elijah," she said again, her voice low, almost breaking. "You can't just walk back into my life like this."
He took a slow breath, his gaze never leaving hers. "I didn't come here to start something… I just needed to see you."
"See me?" she repeated, a bitter laugh slipping out. "You saw me once when it mattered. And you walked away."
He flinched, but didn't defend himself. "You're right. I did. And I've regretted it every single day since."
"Don't," she cut in sharply. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Say the right things too late."
Her voice cracked on the last word. She didn't mean for it to.
He stepped closer, his tone soft. "Avery, please
"No." She turned to leave, but his hand caught her wrist gentle, but firm enough to stop her.
"Avery."
The way he said her name quiet, careful, reverent made her chest ache.
She tried to pull away. "Let me go."
He hesitated, then whispered, "If I do, I'll lose you again."
Her heart stumbled. The room felt smaller, the world heavier.
"Elijah…" she breathed. "You already lost me."
She left the café before she could fall apart. The street outside was humming with life couples laughing, neon signs glowing, the world spinning as if nothing inside her had cracked open.
She walked fast, her thoughts a blur of memories.
Him laughing.
Him leaving.
Him saying forever like it meant something.
By the time she reached her apartment, her eyes burned. She slammed the door shut behind her, dropped her bag on the floor, and pressed her back against the wall, fighting the tears.
Her chest rose and fell quickly.
She hated that seeing him still made her heart race.
She hated that he could still make her feel everything.
There was a knock on the door.
Once.
Twice.
She froze. Her mind screamed that it couldn't be but her heart already knew.
"Avery," his voice called softly from the other side.
"Elijah?" she whispered.
"I just need a minute," he said, voice muffled. "Please."
She should've said no. Should've told him to leave. But her hand was already reaching for the handle.
When the door opened, he stood there drenched from the sudden drizzle, hair falling into his eyes.
He looked at her like she was still his.
She swallowed hard. "You shouldn't be here."
"I couldn't walk away. Not again."
"Elijah"
He stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him.
Then… he turned the lock.
The click echoed through the room.
Avery's breath hitched.
"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to sound calm.
He didn't answer. Instead, he took a step closer.
Then another.
His eyes searched hers, desperate and soft all at once. "Tell me to leave, and I will."
She opened her mouth but no words came out. Because the truth was, she didn't want him to.
"Elijah…" she whispered, "I don't know what you expect me to say."
"I don't expect anything," he said, voice low. "I just need you to know I never stopped loving you."
Her heart stuttered. The room blurred for a second.
"Don't," she whispered, backing up slightly. "Don't do that to me. You don't get to say that after everything you"
"I know," he cut in, voice breaking. "I know I hurt you. I was scared. Stupid. I let go when I should've fought for you."
He stepped closer again.
"And every single day without you felt wrong."
Avery shook her head, tears spilling before she could stop them. "You can't just show up and fix what's broken with words."
"I'm not trying to fix it," he said, his voice trembling now. "I just want you to know it still matters to me. You still matter to me."
The air between them pulsed heavy, alive, unspoken.
"Elijah…" she whispered.
He was so close now she could feel the warmth of his breath.
"Tell me to stop," he said quietly.
She didn't.
For a long second, neither of them moved. Then he lifted his hand and brushed a tear from her cheek, his fingers lingering like they were afraid she'd vanish.
"I missed you," he murmured.
And then his lips met hers.
The world went still.
It wasn't the same as before it wasn't soft or gentle. It was desperate, trembling, full of everything they never said.
Years of pain, longing, and love all collapsing into that single, fragile moment.
Avery's heart raced, her mind a blur of reasons why this was wrong.
But her body remembered him the way he always kissed her like he was trying to memorize her soul.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard.
Her eyes glistened, his jaw tightened.
"This doesn't change anything," she whispered, her voice shaking.
"I know," he said softly. "But it changes something."
And for once, she couldn't argue.