Emily told herself she was fine.
She kept busy with work, throwing herself into projects with a fervor that left little room for anything else. She surrounded herself with friends, filling her weekends with brunches, movie nights, and long walks in the park. She even agreed to go on a few casual dates, though none of them lasted more than a single outing. She wasn't looking for anything serious—just distractions. Anything to stop herself from thinking about Ryan.
But no matter how much she tried, he lingered in the back of her mind like a shadow she couldn't shake. Late at night, when the world was quiet and she was alone with her thoughts, she couldn't stop wondering… Did he ever miss her? Did he ever think about their last night together, the way she did? Did he remember the way they had held each other, the way he had whispered her name like it was the most important word in the world? Or had it all been just another fleeting moment for him, something he could easily tuck away and forget?
At work, their interactions were strictly professional, almost painfully so. If she entered a meeting room, he would acknowledge her with a polite nod, his expression unreadable, his tone detached. When their eyes met in passing, there was no warmth, no trace of the man who had once held her so desperately, as if he never wanted to let her go. It was as if that night had never happened, as if they had never shared something so intimate, so raw.
Emily tried to convince herself that it was for the best, that this distance was necessary. But deep down, it hurt. It hurt to see him so composed, so unaffected, while she was still struggling to piece herself back together. It hurt to wonder if she had been the only one who had felt something real, if she had been the only one who had let herself fall.
Maybe it had only meant something to her. Maybe, to Ryan, it had just been another chapter in his life, one he could close without a second thought. The thought made her chest ache, but she forced herself to push it aside. She couldn't afford to dwell on what-ifs and maybes. She had to move forward, even if it felt like she was leaving a part of herself behind.
And yet, despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but glance at him sometimes, when she thought he wasn't looking. She couldn't help but search his face for some sign, some hint that he still cared, that he still remembered. But there was nothing. Just the same cool, professional demeanor that made her feel like a stranger in his eyes.
Emily told herself she was fine. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into a month, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was lying to herself. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn't ready to let go—not yet.
And so, she did what any rational person would do—she moved on.
Or at least, she tried.
That was how she found herself at dinner with Alex, a charming, confident marketing director from another agency. He had been pursuing her for weeks, sending her thoughtful texts, inviting her to events, and even showing up at her office with coffee on a particularly stressful day. She had finally agreed to go out with him, partly out of curiosity and partly because she was tired of feeling stuck in the past. Alex was handsome, funny, and clearly interested, and for the first time in a while, Emily allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could find happiness with someone else.
The restaurant was cozy and intimate, with soft lighting and the gentle hum of conversation filling the air. Alex had chosen a table near the window, where they could enjoy the view of the city lights. He was an excellent conversationalist, effortlessly weaving stories and jokes that kept her engaged. Halfway through dinner, Emily laughed at one of his jokes, the sound genuine and unrestrained. It felt good to laugh, to let go of the weight she had been carrying for so long. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of something resembling happiness.
And that was when she felt it.
A pair of familiar eyes watching her.
Her laughter died on her lips as her gaze instinctively flickered across the restaurant. There, at a table near the back, sat Ryan. He was with his assistant and a few colleagues, no doubt for a business dinner. But his attention wasn't on them. His gaze was fixed on her, his expression unreadable but intense, his eyes dark and piercing.
Emily's breath caught, her heart skipping a beat as their eyes locked. For a moment, the rest of the world faded away, and it was just the two of them, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. She quickly looked away, forcing herself to act natural. She had no reason to feel guilty. She wasn't his anymore. She had every right to be here, to be happy, to move on.
Still, she felt her body tense under his gaze, her fingers tightening around her wine glass. She took a sip, the cool liquid doing little to calm the storm raging inside her. Determined to prove—to herself or to Ryan, she wasn't sure—that she had moved on, she offered Alex a flirtatious smile, leaning in slightly as she laughed at another one of his jokes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryan's jaw tighten, his expression hardening as he watched them.
A few moments later, he stood abruptly, excusing himself from his table with a curt nod to his colleagues. Emily barely had time to process it before she felt someone standing behind her, the air around her shifting as a familiar presence loomed close.
"Emily."
His voice was low and steady, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down her spine. She turned slowly, her heart pounding in her chest, to find Ryan standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze locked on hers. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
"Director Ryan," she greeted coolly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside her. She kept her expression neutral, her professional mask firmly in place, but her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Alex frowned, glancing between them, his earlier charm replaced by a look of confusion and mild concern. "You two know each other?" he asked, his tone light but probing, as if trying to piece together the puzzle of their tense interaction.
Ryan didn't even glance at Alex. His eyes were locked on Emily, intense and unyielding, as if the rest of the world didn't exist. "Can we talk?" he asked, his voice low but firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Emily's fingers curled around her wine glass, the cool surface grounding her as she tried to steady her nerves. Not here. Not like this, she thought, her mind racing. She wasn't ready for this confrontation, not in the middle of a restaurant, not with Alex sitting right there, watching them with growing unease.
"Now?" she asked, feigning confusion, her tone deliberately casual as she raised an eyebrow. "I'm in the middle of dinner."
Ryan didn't back down. If anything, his gaze grew more intense, his jaw tightening as he took a small step closer. "It's important," he said, his voice quieter now but no less urgent, the weight of his words hanging heavily between them.
Alex's smile had faded completely, replaced by a look of mild irritation and curiosity. He wasn't stupid—he could sense the tension between them, the unspoken history that crackled in the air like static. He turned to Emily, his tone polite but firm. "It's up to you," he said, though his eyes betrayed his discomfort.
Emily exhaled slowly, her mind racing as she weighed her options. She could refuse, could sit back down and try to salvage the evening, but she knew Ryan well enough to know he wouldn't let this go. And deep down, a part of her wanted to hear what he had to say, even if she knew it would only complicate things further.
"Alex, I'll be right back," she said finally, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She stood, her movements deliberate, her heart pounding as she prepared herself for whatever was coming.
As she rose, Ryan's hand instinctively reached for her wrist, his touch warm and familiar, just as it used to be. For a split second, Emily felt a surge of emotions: comfort, longing, regret, before she quickly pulled away, her body stiffening.
Not anymore, she reminded herself, her resolve hardening. She couldn't let herself fall back into old habits, couldn't let his touch unravel her.
She followed him outside, the cool night air hitting her like a shock as they stepped away from the warmth of the restaurant. The city buzzed around them, the sounds of traffic and distant laughter filling the silence between them. They stopped near the restaurant's entrance, away from the crowd but still close enough to the glow of the streetlights.
Emily crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her body language defensive as she faced Ryan, her heart pounding in her chest.
"What is it, Ryan? You made it clear we were done," she said, her voice cool and clipped, though the tremor in her tone betrayed the storm of emotions raging inside her. She had spent weeks trying to move on, trying to convince herself that she was better off without him, and now here he was, standing in front of her, unraveling all the progress she had made.
Ryan's lips parted, but for a second, he seemed… unsure. As if he had rehearsed this moment in his head a thousand times but now, faced with her, the words wouldn't come. His usual confidence wavered, and for the first time, Emily saw a crack in his composed exterior. But then, his gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing as he glanced back toward the restaurant, where Alex was still sitting, waiting for her.
"So you're dating now?" he asked, his voice low and edged with something that sounded suspiciously like jealousy.
Emily narrowed her eyes, her defenses rising. Was that jealousy in his voice? The audacity of it made her blood boil. "Why do you care?" she shot back, her tone sharp and biting. "I thought you didn't do love. I thought your career was the only thing that mattered to you."
Ryan's jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides as if he were struggling to keep his composure.
"Emily—" he began, but she cut him off, her voice rising with every word.
"No, Ryan. You don't get to do this," she said, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You let me go. You didn't fight for me. So don't stand here acting like you have the right to be angry. Don't act like you have the right to care."
Ryan was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he absorbed her words. Then, softly, almost hesitantly, he said, "I was trying to respect what you wanted."
Emily scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No. If you really cared about me, you would have done something. You would have fought for me. But you didn't. You just let me walk away like I was nothing to you."
Ryan suddenly took a step closer, closing the distance between them, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made her breath catch. "You were never nothing to me," he said, his voice low and strained, as if the words had been clawing their way out of him for weeks.
Emily froze, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the walls she had built to protect herself, but the raw emotion in his voice was breaking her down piece by piece.
Ryan exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. "Do you think it's been easy for me? Do you think I haven't wanted to call you every damn day? To see you, to talk to you, to tell you—" He stopped himself, his voice cracking as he struggled to find the words.
Emily's breath hitched, her chest tightening as she stared at him, her resolve wavering.
Ryan clenched his fists, his voice rough with emotion. "You said you wanted someone who wouldn't put work first. And you were right. I've spent my whole life thinking nothing was more important than my career. But then you left, and suddenly… none of it mattered. None of it felt worth it without you."
Emily swallowed hard, her throat tightening as emotions crashed over her like a tidal wave. She wanted to stay strong, to remind herself of all the reasons she had walked away, but the pain in his voice was breaking her heart all over again.
"I don't want to be the guy who lets you go," Ryan continued, his voice raw and desperate. "I don't want to sit in meetings thinking about you, seeing you with someone else and pretending it doesn't fucking tear me apart."
Emily's breath hitched, her eyes stinging with unshed tears as she stared at him, her defenses crumbling with every word he spoke.
Ryan took another step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Emily… I miss you. I miss your voice, your smile, the way you argue with me over ridiculous things. I miss the way you make me feel like I'm more than just my job. I miss… you."
Emily felt her walls breaking, the carefully constructed barriers she had built to protect herself shattering under the weight of his words. She wanted to stay strong, to walk away and never look back, but the way he was looking at her—the way his hand cupped her face gently, tilting it up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze—made it impossible.
"Tell me you don't miss me," Ryan said, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "Look me in the eye and tell me you're over me, and I swear—I'll walk away."
Emily's throat tightened, her mind racing as she tried to find the words to push him away, to protect herself from the inevitable pain that would come from loving him again. But as she looked into his eyes—those deep, dark eyes that had always seen right through her—she couldn't do it.
Her silence was his answer.
Ryan exhaled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a gesture so tender it made her heart ache. "Let's try again, Emily," he said, his voice low and earnest, his eyes searching hers with a vulnerability she had never seen before. "No more uncertainty. No more holding back. I don't want to lose you again."
Emily closed her eyes, her heart racing as his words washed over her, each one breaking down the walls she had spent weeks building. For so long, she had convinced herself that she was moving on, that she had accepted their end and was ready to start anew. She had thrown herself into work, gone on dates, and told herself over and over that she was fine—that she didn't need him, that she didn't miss him. But standing here, with Ryan's hands on her, with his words still lingering in the air like a promise, she realized the truth she had been trying so hard to ignore.
She had never stopped loving him.
Her breath hitched as she opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she had kept buried inside her—the longing, the regret, the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other. But before she could speak, before she could even begin to untangle the emotions swirling inside her, a voice cut through the moment like a knife.
"Emily?"
She froze, her body stiffening as she turned toward the sound. Alex stood in the doorway of the restaurant, his expression a mix of confusion and concern as he looked between her and Ryan. His presence was a stark reminder of the life she had been trying to build without Ryan, of the distractions she had used to fill the void he had left behind.
Ryan didn't step back, his hand still resting gently on her cheek, his gaze never leaving hers. It was as if he was silently daring her to make a choice, to decide once and for all what—and who—she wanted.
Emily's mind raced, her heart pounding as she looked between the two men. On one side was Alex, kind and charming, a safe choice who represented the possibility of a fresh start. On the other was Ryan, the man who had broken her heart but who had also shown her a love so intense it had left her forever changed.
She realized, in that moment, that she had to make a choice.