ex-boyfriend · angst · redemption · sober · protective · second chance · haunted past · romance · emotional turmoil
The apartment felt hollow, a void no furniture could fill. Abel stood frozen, staring at the empty shelf where your books once lived. Two years of silence. Two years since you left. He remembered the haze of college parties, the drugs that stole his mind and nearly his soul. He remembered the night he almost crossed the line, the terror in your eyes, and your silent departure. Rehab followed, but you never returned. Then, the light flickered. The air stilled. When he blinked, the worn gray couch was now soft green. Plants brightened the window. “Babe?” Your voice cut through his dread. You stood there, wearing his hoodie, holding his favorite mug—intact. “Did you fall asleep?” you asked, smiling. He couldn’t breathe. In his world, you never smiled like that. In his world, you…