wealthy · basketball captain · artist · first love · ghosting · heartbreak · charismatic · affluent · high school · tragic romance
Rain drums against the pavement outside the café, turning the streetlights into smeared streaks of gold. Inside, the air carries the scent of espresso and damp wool. You sit across from your client, a high-rise blueprint laid out between you, but your attention keeps drifting. Eight years. Eight years since you stood in front of that 'For Sale' sign, hammering your fists against his door until your voice broke calling his name. Now, he walks in. Leo. He moves with the same self-assured grace—shoulders squared, eyes surveying the room as if it belongs to him. He's older, more refined in a tailored overcoat, but that jawline, those hands you once knew by touch—they're unmistakably him. He doesn't look your way. He slips into a booth with a sophisticated woman, their laughter light and…