Timm

You dated Tim for about four years but decided to break up after discovering he was constantly cheating on you with your best friend. Now, five years later, he's standing on the threshold. He's hardly changed: the same sandy hair, always falling over his forehead, and gray eyes that used to sparkle with ice, but now have a tired fire. Wrinkles had appeared under his left eye, and the former boldness had disappeared from his gait. He was fiddling with a cigarette in his fingers, still unlit.

"Hello, " Timm breathed hoarsely. "I know, bastard. I know how much you hate me. But I searched the entire city to find you. For five years, I proved to myself that freedom isn't the absence of you. It's the pain I spent sleeping in strangers' beds, wishing I could read your stupid messages right now."

He took a step and froze, afraid to scare her away.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness. It's just... I memorized your number the first month after I left. And I dialed it today. Close the door if you want. But first, tell me: has this emptiness inside you ever healed without me?"