I should have walked away. I really should have.
But I didn't.
He was still there, just a few steps away, the way he always seemed to appear in my thoughts uninvited. I wanted to pretend I didn't see him. Pretend I hadn't memorized every little thing about him over the years. Pretend that the part of me that still loved him wasn't screaming.
"Hey," he said. His voice was soft, careful. Like he was testing the waters.
"Hi," I answered, too quickly. My throat felt tight. My hands fidgeted, trying to find something to hold onto. Anything.
We stood there, awkwardly, neither of us moving closer, neither of us moving away. It was like the universe had frozen for a second. Or maybe just my world.
"You… you look different," I managed, hating myself the moment it left my mouth. So cliché. So human.
He smiled faintly, not offended. "Yeah… I guess time changes things."
Time did change things. But some things, some people, never really leave. I could feel it now, every nerve in my body reminding me that he still belonged in the part of my heart I'd promised to lock up.
"I… didn't expect to see you here," I said, hoping the words sounded normal. They didn't.
"I didn't expect to see you either," he admitted. And that's when I noticed it—the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, like he was trying to read me. Like he remembered me better than I remembered myself.
We walked together, or maybe we just drifted toward the same spot. I don't even know if we really talked at first. Just awkward words. Shallow questions. Small talk pretending it was nothing. But underneath it, something unspoken was screaming at both of us.
"I… I never stopped thinking about you," he said suddenly. His voice was low, almost lost in the music and chatter around us.
My chest froze. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to run. I wanted to laugh at how dramatic this all felt. And maybe, somewhere deep inside, I did a little of all three.
"Stop," I whispered. "You… you can't just—say things like that."
He looked at me, his eyes soft but serious. "Why not? We never really got the chance to finish… whatever we had."
And then it hit me—the truth I had buried for years: neither of us really moved on.
I wanted to scream, "Don't make me fall for you again!" But instead, I swallowed hard and nodded, because my body and my heart were already betraying me.
The rest of the night was a blur. We laughed at old memories, awkwardly poked at small talk, avoided the things that were too dangerous to touch. But every glance, every brush of hands, every pause in conversation… it was like we were tracing the outlines of a love we thought was gone.
By the time we parted, I knew one thing for certain:
This was just the beginning.
Because love… love doesn't wait for permission.
And second chances… well, sometimes they hit harder than the first.