My car. The memory of it makes something cold curl in my stomach. The screech of metal. The loss of control. The way my heart had pounded so loudly I thought it might burst.
And him, his voice, so steady. Grounding. Refusing to let me slip into panic. My fingers tighten slightly around the pen in my hand.
If he hadn’t been there—I stop the thought immediately. No. I’m not going there. I’m here. I’m fine. He’s coming. Everything is okay. I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax.
My gaze drifts again to the ring, the ruby catches it softly, glowing warm against my skin. “You’re impossible,” I murmur under my breath, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself.
My boyfriend.
The word still feels new.
Strange.
Mine.
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head.
If someone had told me few months ago that I’d be sitting here, smiling at the thought of someone, waiting for them to pick me up—I would have called them delusional.
And yet—Here I am.
Not just waiting. Wanting. The realization settles deeper than I expect.
I love him.
The thought doesn’t come with panic like I thought it would. It doesn’t come with resistance either. I stare at my hands for a moment, the ring catching the light again, and something in my chest expands in a way that feels unfamiliar and overwhelming all at once.
I love him.
I want to say it out loud. The urge is sudden. Almost ridiculous. Like if I don’t, it’ll sit inside me and grow too big to hold. I want to tell him. I want to see what his face looks like when I say it. I want to watch his stupid, beautiful smile widen like it always does when he’s pleased with himself. I want to stand in the middle of everything he’s built and say it without hesitation.
Mine.
He’s mine.
And I’m—I stop myself, pressing my lips together.
God.
What is happening to me?
A soft laugh escapes me despite everything, and I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. This is new. This is terrifying.
And for once—I don’t want to run from it. I glance at the time. He should be here soon. I stand, smoothing my clothes unnecessarily, glancing at myself in the mirror out of habit more than anything else. I look…different. Not physically. But there’s something in my expression that wasn’t there before. Something softer. Less guarded. It startles me but I am happy.
The doorbell rings. My heart does something stupid. I roll my eyes at myself, but I’m already moving toward the door, my steps quicker than they need to be.
I open the door with a small, automatic smile already forming—
“Ary—” The word dies in my throat.
Everything inside me stills. Because it’s not him. For a second, my brain doesn’t register what I’m seeing. Like it’s refusing to connect the image in front of me to anything real. He looks…the same. And completely different. Familiar in the worst way. Like a memory I buried too deep has suddenly decided to stand right in front of me and breathe.
My fingers tighten around the edge of the door. “What are you doing here?”
My voice comes out steadier than I feel. His lips curve slightly. That same smile. The one that used to mean something else. Now it just feels…wrong.
“Missed me?” Something cold slides down my spine.
