I hadn’t expected to see Jacob at Sarah’s house party, but there he was, leaning against the kitchen counter with that familiar easy smile I used to wake up to every morning. Six months had passed since our breakup, but my heart still skipped when our eyes met across the room.
I quickly turned away, pretending to be fascinated by the artwork on Sarah’s living room wall. The bass from the speakers thumped through my chest, matching my racing heartbeat. Coming here was a mistake. I should have asked Sarah who else would be attending.
“Daisy-Mai.” His voice behind me was soft but clear enough to cut through the music. I closed my eyes for a moment, gathering courage before turning around.
“Jacob.” I tried to keep my voice neutral, professional. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He shrugged, that familiar gesture making my stomach flip. “Sarah’s my friend too. You look good.”
“Thanks.” I fidgeted with my glass, watching the ice cubes dance. “How have you been?”
“Good. Busy with the new job.” His responses were clipped, polite. The kind of conversation you’d have with a stranger, not someone who once knew every detail of your life.
The party continued around us, people laughing and talking, but we stood in our own bubble of awkward silence. I wanted to walk away, to preserve what little dignity I had left, but my feet wouldn’t move.
“I should probably…” Jacob gestured vaguely toward the other room.
“I’m not over you.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I watched his face freeze, his hand still mid-gesture. “I know I’m not supposed to say that. I know we agreed to move on, but I can’t pretend anymore.”
His expression hardened. “Daisy…”
“No, let me finish.” My voice shook, but I pressed on. “I’ve dated other people. I’ve tried to forget. But everything reminds me of you. Every song, every coffee shop, every stupid romantic comedy. And I hate that I can’t just… stop.”
Jacob’s jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere over my shoulder. “We broke up for a reason.”
“Did we? Because I can’t remember what was so terrible that we couldn’t work through it.” I stepped closer, emboldened by either courage or desperation. “We were scared. We were young. But I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you.”
“Stop.” His voice was harsh, but I caught the slight tremor in it. “You can’t just say these things.”
“Why not? Because you’ve moved on? Because you don’t feel the same?”
Finally, his eyes met mine, and I saw the crack in his carefully constructed facade. “Because if you keep talking, I’m going to kiss you, and we’ll be right back where we started.”
My heart stopped. “Would that be so terrible?”
“Daisy-Mai…” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it hurt. “I’ve been miserable without you. I see you in everything too. But I’m terrified of messing this up again.”
I stepped closer, close enough to smell his cologne – the same one he’d always worn. “Then let’s be terrified together. Let’s try again, but this time we’ll be honest when we’re scared. We’ll talk instead of running.”
For a moment, he just looked at me, and I could see the battle playing out behind his eyes. Then his hand was on my cheek, thumb brushing away tears I hadn’t realized were falling.
“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine.
The party faded away – the music, the people, everything but the feeling of coming home. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I felt six months of longing and regret dissolve in that embrace.
When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine. “We’re going to do this right this time,” he said softly. “No running away when things get hard.”
I nodded, my hands still gripping his shirt. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He smiled, that real smile that reached his eyes. “Though I have to warn you, I still leave wet towels on the bed.”
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside where joy had been hibernating. “And I still sing terrible karaoke in the shower.”
“I missed your terrible karaoke.”
Around us, the party continued, but we remained in our bubble, this time filled with possibility instead of awkwardness. Sometimes the scariest things to say are the most important, and sometimes love is brave enough to try again.