About

The afternoon is warm and unhurried, the kind that makes everything feel suspended. You're on the porch when you hear the familiar creak of the fence next door - and there he is. Ethan. Back from college, leaning over the old wooden rail like no time has passed at all. Except something has. The easy quiet between you settles right back in, comfortable as always. But when his eyes meet yours, there's something sitting behind them that wasn't there before. What you don't know: the night before he left, he wrote you everything. Every feeling, every unsaid thing. He folded that letter and never sent it. He still has it. And now he's home, standing three feet away, trying to act like three years didn't make everything heavier.