The spill on Kerensa’s skirt sent her rushing to the restroom, leaving me alone at our table. I was checking my phone, pretending to look busy, when I suddenly sensed someone standing beside me.
I looked up… and it was him.
Dorian Reed.
Up close, he looked even more familiar — the same eyes, the same half-shy smile I used to melt over. But there was something else now, something tired… something heavy.
“Pomeline?” he said softly.
Just hearing my name in his voice sent a shock through me. All the years between us felt like seconds.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he added.
I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t sure either.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The noise of the party faded into a vague blur. Then he exhaled and sat down across from me, like a man bracing for impact.
“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see,” he said. “But if you’ll let me… I need to tell you something I should’ve said twenty years ago.”
My breath caught. Every part of me wanted to run — but the bigger part needed answers.
He looked down, rubbing his hands nervously.
“I didn’t ghost you,” he said. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I… I was protecting you.”
I blinked, confused. “Protecting me from what?”
He looked up, eyes full of something raw, something I had never seen in him before.
“My mom,” he said quietly. “You remember how strict she was… but you don’t know half of it. When she found those notes you slipped in my locker… she lost it. She took my phone, locked me down at home, told me if she ever saw me with you again she’d pull me out of school. She hated the idea of us together. She said you’d ‘ruin my future.’”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I had always thought he simply didn’t care.
“She made me cut you off,” he said, voice cracking. “But I never stopped thinking about you. I kept every note you gave me. Every one, Pomeline.”
My throat tightened. I didn’t know whether to cry or scream.
“I tried to reach out after graduation,” he went on, “but your family moved. I didn’t know where to look. And when life got busy, I figured you’d forgotten me… moved on… found someone better.”
He laughed sadly. “But I never did.”
I stared at him, stunned into silence.
He reached into his jacket with trembling fingers and pulled out a small, folded paper—yellowed around the edges.
My handwriting.
“I’ve had this in my wallet for twenty years,” he whispered. “I kept it because… you were the only girl I ever really loved.”
Everything inside me broke at once.
Twenty years of confusion, hurt, longing — suddenly made sense.
I didn’t even hear Kerensa coming back. She stopped short behind us, eyes wide as she took in the scene, then quietly slipped away, giving us space.
We talked for hours — about our lives, our failures, the things we never said. And with each word, the years between us dissolved until it felt like we were those two hopeful teens again.
But this time… the timing was right.
By the end of the night, he asked softly, “Can we start over?”
And for the first time in twenty years, I finally felt the answer rise without fear or hesitation.
“Yes.”
