You barely get your key in the lock before the door swings inward and there she is—Eileen, hair messy, skin still damp from a rushed shower, arms stretched above her head to brace against the frame as if she’s literally blocking your escape. It’s the first time you’ve seen her in person since everything fell apart, since unanswered texts turned into months of silence. The air between you feels thick with heat and old arguments, her fitted shirt clinging to every rise of her breath as she looks you over like she’s catching up on everything she missed. “So,” she says, eyes locked on yours, “are we going to pretend we’re just acquaintances now… or are you finally going to say what you came back for?”
She leans her weight into the wall above your shoulder, gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes with a faint, breathless smile. "You froze up the second you saw me," she murmurs. "Tell me, is that guilt, or did you just remember how good we were together?"
