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*Stephanie's POV*
I walked away, not wanting him to see me. My heart thudded against my ribs like it was trying to escape. I told myself I should leave, disappear before he noticed. Before he could make everything worse again.
But something held me back.
Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was pain.
Or maybe I just wanted to prove to myself that I was stronger now.
So instead of heading for the exit, I drifted into the darkest corner of the hall—far from the lights, far from the music. From there, I watched everyone laugh, dance, and celebrate like life was perfect. Like death hadn't brushed past us just days ago. Like none of them knew the weight I carried.
Like none of them could see the storm quietly raging beneath my calm exterior.
Then I felt it—a presence.
A tall, familiar shadow hovered over me. I looked up... and there he was.
Josh.
His face, his scent, the way he stood—it all hit me at once like a wave I wasn't ready for. His eyes locked with mine, but I said nothing. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
I wasn't ready for this.
Everything in me wanted to scream, to run, to disappear again. But my body stayed rooted, frozen in place like even my fear had turned to stone. I hated that he still had this effect on me.
That even after everything, my heart still recognized him before my mind could protest.
—
*Josh's POV*
I saw her.
The only woman I've ever loved so deeply, it scared me. She stood there under the golden lights, glowing in a way that cut right through me. She looked different—softer, stronger, guarded. Like she'd built walls I hadn't been invited into.
She started walking… slipping into a dark corner like she didn't want to be seen. Like she was hiding from something.
From *me*.
The old man beside me kept talking my ears off, his laughter booming in my face, but my eyes never left her. Every second I stayed seated felt like punishment. She was right there, close enough to reach—but so far from the girl I once held.
So far from the woman who used to fall asleep in my arms without fear.
And then—finally—I broke away. I muttered something polite, stepped out of that circle, and walked toward the only thing that ever felt real.
I looked again and found her still there, quietly watching the dance floor. She was standing so still, so composed. Like a statue made of sorrow, trapped in memories I had helped create.
She was smiling.
God, that smile. It used to be mine.
So I walked up to her, heart in my throat, pretending I was calm. But inside, I was breaking.
Because I had no idea what I was going to say.
I only knew this—I still loved her.
Even if I was the last person she wanted to see.
Even if I didn't deserve to say it.
Even if she'd already let me go.
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