I stare at the screen until the words start to bleed together. My vision blurs, but not from the text—from the pressure building behind my eyes. I can hear his voice in my head, soft and low, like he’s standing right beside me. Apologetic. Familiar. Dangerous. I don’t know if it’s the Rowan from years ago or the stranger who’s found his way back into my life without permission.
Can we talk?
It’s a simple question, but it’s as if I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, deciding whether to jump or turn around. It’s not just about him. It’s about me—who I was, who I’ve clawed my way into becoming, and who I might turn into if I let him back in.
Part of me wants to scream. To rip open the wounds he left and make him look. Every late night I spent trying to forget his name. Every lie I told myself just to get out of bed. I want to hit him with words I’ve never had the courage to say aloud.
And then there’s the other part of me that’s been in love with him for so long that it doesn’t matter how much time has passed, how long I’ve tried to pretend I’ve let go. That girl—the one who dreams of what could’ve been, what we never had, the one whoremembers the way his crooked grin used to make everything right.
I could end it. Block the number. Delete the message. Pretend he never tried. I’ve walked away from this exact fantasy before and told myself I was done. That I was better now. Stronger.
But when it comes to Rowan…I’m afraid that will never be true.
The truth is, I’m stitched together with pieces of him. Just the thought of hearing his voice again, of being within inches of it…breaks something I thought I buried deep inside me.
I know how this story ends. It ends with me shattered, picking up the same old pieces. Yet I also know I won’t survive not knowing. I’ll regret it. I’ll wonder. And that wondering will eat me alive. Deep down, I still believe in the version of him that never showed up for me.
My hands are shaking as I set the phone down and lean back against the counter. My chest tightens, like my ribs can’t hold the weight of this decision. I’m stronger than this. I’ve said it. I’ve believed it.
But I’m still hopelessly in love with the boy who broke me. With the man who could do it all over again.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know I’m doing it anyway.
Me:
Okay.
I want to see him. I want to know why he came back. I want to hear him explain the years of silence and distance. Most of all, I want to believe in him again.
Rowan:
Same place as before? Tonight?
I blink at the screen, trying to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. He’s talking about the diner. I haven’t been there since the last time we went together.
It’s been years, but I can still picture it. The faded red booths, the smell of grease and coffee that always hung in the air. We used to talk for hours there, when my parents were fighting or when his dad was drunk. I’d laugh at his stupid jokes, and he’d tell me about his plans and big dreams. Then every time he’d leave, that same bittersweet knot in my stomach would return, knowing he wasn’t mine to keep. But I’d wait for him, because that’s just how I was.
How Iam.
Me:
Okay. Same place.
seven
. . .
Violet
The neon sign flickers above the diner, humming low as if it’s struggling to stay alive. The blue glow spills across the cracked pavement, casting everything in a washed-out nostalgia that makes my chest ache. This place hasn’t changed. Not even a little.
I drive by often enough but haven’t stepped foot inside in…well, six years. It wasourplace.
I kill the engine and just sit there, fingers wrapped tight around the steering wheel. The windows fog faintly with my breath, and through the misted glass, I can see the same chipped white siding, the same red trim around the door. Time stood still here.
I wish I didn’t feel like a teenager again, scared and full of hope I shouldn’t have let consume me. Like I still think maybe this time will be different.
My hands are clammy as I step out. I tug my coat tighter around me and head toward the door. The bell above it jingles, and I’m hit with the scent of old grease, sugar, and coffee that’s been kept warm a little too long. It’salmostcomforting.