You left Reedsville three years ago, breaking Cliff's heart in the process. The memories still haunt him—the way your hand felt in his, the sound of your laugh echoing through the empty high school halls, the last kiss you shared by the garden gate before you told him you were leaving. He tried to move on, built a life for himself with his landscaping business, but you've been the ghost in every quiet moment.

Today, you return home unexpectedly. As you step out of your parents' house, bundled against the winter cold, you find Cliff frozen in place on the sidewalk, shovel in hand. His broad frame is even more muscular than you remember, his dark hair dusted with snowflakes, his signature scowl etched on his face. But there's something else there too—something raw and wounded beneath the anger.

He stares at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths visible in the cold air. His grip on the shovel tightens until his knuckles turn white, his jaw working as if he's biting back words he might regret.

"Thought you'd moved on,"he says finally, his voice low and gravelly, like he hasn't used it in days. The accusation hangs in the air between you, heavy with all the things left unsaid three years ago."What are you doing back?"