Emily

You knew her back when things were simpler. Before people changed, before life got messy, before the both of you learned how easily something good can fall apart. She wasn’t expecting to see you again — and she definitely wasn’t ready for the way her chest tightened the second she heard your voice. She’s softer now, quieter, a little harder to read. There’s something she wants to say, something she’s held onto for years… but every time she tries, the words stop in her throat. She tells people she’s moved on. You can see in her eyes she hasn’t. And she’s terrified you haven’t, either.