Chapter 2: Ghosts of the Past

Lena's feet barely touched the ground as she walked back through the streets, her mind a swirling mess of emotions. The cool autumn breeze ruffled her hair, but she didn't feel it. She could barely feel anything except for the echo of Ethan's voice, still ringing in her ears. I didn't mean for things to end like this.

She had heard those words so many times before. It had been his excuse every time they argued, every time things fell apart between them. But it had never stopped them from parting ways. It had never been enough to stop him from walking away, from choosing someone else, from choosing distance.

Why had she thought today would be different?

Lena shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat, willing herself to breathe. She tried to focus on the sounds of the city—car horns, distant chatter, the rhythmic footsteps of people all around her—but it didn't help. Everything felt muted, as if she were walking through a dream, unable to wake up.

It wasn't that she hadn't moved on. In the years since they'd broken up, she had built a life for herself—one that didn't include him. She had gone to therapy, focused on her career, and even dated other people. She had convinced herself that the pain of their breakup had dulled, that she had somehow put that chapter of her life behind her.

But seeing him again—after all this time—had shattered everything. It had cracked open a wound she thought had healed, and now the blood was spilling out again.

She had thought about him, of course. Ethan had never really left her mind completely. But that was different from this—different from the real, raw emotions that surged through her when she saw him in the café. The rush of nostalgia, the familiar ache, the way her heart had skipped a beat when their eyes met.

Her heart had been taken back to a time when everything had seemed possible. When she had been happy, naive even, thinking that love could conquer all. But time had a way of changing people, of erasing things that were once so vivid, and what they had shared felt like another lifetime ago. So why did it still hurt?

Lena took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. She had to move forward. She couldn't keep living in the past, clinging to memories that were nothing more than ghosts now. The past was over. The love they had was unfinished, yes, but that didn't mean she had to keep reopening the wound.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized how unfinished it really was. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, Ethan had been a part of her—of who she was. And even now, when she thought she could erase him, she couldn't.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, half-expecting it to be him. It wasn't. Instead, it was a text from her best friend, Emma.

"Are you okay? You've been quiet all day. Do you want to talk?"

Lena smiled, even though it felt more like a grimace. She hadn't told Emma about seeing Ethan again, not yet. Emma had always been the one who knew the most about what had happened between her and Ethan, the one who had held her through the heartache and the nights she cried herself to sleep. Emma had listened to her rants about what went wrong, offered advice she had refused to hear, and supported her as she picked up the pieces.

But even Emma didn't fully understand how it felt. How could she? No one could truly understand unless they had been there—unless they had loved someone with their whole heart and then had to let them go.

Lena quickly typed a response. "I saw him today. Ethan. At the café."

The reply came almost instantly. "No way! How did it go? Are you okay?"

Lena sighed, her thumb hovering over the screen. She didn't know how to explain it. She didn't know how to say that seeing him again had made her feel like a part of her had died all over again.

"I don't know. It was weird. I didn't know what to say. Everything felt unfinished. And now… I just feel stuck."

She sent the message and sat on a nearby bench, staring down at her phone, waiting for Emma's response. She could already hear the words in her head—you should talk to him—but she wasn't sure she was ready for that. Talking to Ethan would mean reopening everything. It would mean confronting all the pain, all the old dreams, and maybe even the ones she'd let go of.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced down. Emma's message popped up.

"You don't have to talk to him if you're not ready. But you have to make a choice, Lena. You can't keep carrying him around like this. You need closure."

Lena stared at the screen, her heart thudding in her chest. Closure. The word had been used so many times in her life, a word that sounded so simple, yet felt so impossible. How do you get closure when there's no clear end? When there are no answers, no final goodbyes?

The memory of Ethan's touch lingered on her skin, even now. The way his hand had hovered near hers, the way he'd looked at her with those eyes—those eyes that had once been her whole world. But now, there was a wall between them. They were two different people, living in two different lives, and there was no going back.

But what if she was wrong? What if there was a chance, a sliver of hope that they could fix the broken pieces? What if they could write the ending to their story, finish what had been left undone?

Her mind raced with questions, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt the weight of indecision press down on her chest. She couldn't go on like this. She couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't. She needed to confront the past—whether it was with Ethan or without him.

A sudden thought struck her, and Lena felt her heart stutter in her chest. What if he had moved on? What if he had already found someone else, someone better, someone who didn't carry the ghosts of their unfinished love? What if the reason things had ended between them was that he had realized that they weren't meant to be?

The thought made her stomach twist in knots. She had always been afraid of that—of him moving on while she was still stuck in the past. Of him finding happiness without her, while she was left to pick up the pieces of what had never truly been finished.

A fresh wave of panic surged through her. She couldn't keep doing this to herself. She had to know the truth, whatever it was. She had to stop living in the shadow of a love that might never be. She couldn't go on carrying the burden of an unfinished story.

And so, with trembling hands, Lena dialed Ethan's number.

The phone rang once, twice… and then he picked up.

"Lena?" His voice was a little surprised, but there was something softer in it now, something tentative, as if he knew what this conversation might mean.

"Ethan," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "We need to talk."