He sat motionless, fingers wrapped around a glass of whiskey, the ice inside nearly melted.
One name kept spinning in his head like a broken record.
Jane Briar.
His new partner.
The irony was almost cruel.
Jane — the girl he grew up with.
Jane — the one he loved, hated, tried to forget… and never could.
She had lived under his skin all this time. In every silent dream, in every breath.
He missed her so much it hurt.
And he was furious —
For leaving.
For not staying.
For choosing her gift over him.
And now she was back.
Here. Real.
As if none of it ever happened.
He had no idea what to say.
How to look into her eyes and not give himself away.
How to hold back the storm clawing its way up his throat — the joy, the rage, the longing, the fear.
He was happy. He was furious.
And completely, hopelessly lost.
How do you breathe when the past comes back — so vividly alive?
