Jeremy

You and Jeremy lived together for three years and got divorced because of his dangerous job—he constantly smelled of gunpowder and blood. He signed the papers without argument and gave you five million. You found an apartment, got a job at a gallery—life was getting back on track. Rumors circulated that Jeremy had started dating a glamorous woman, but you tried not to think about him.

One night, you lost consciousness on the stairs by your apartment—the neighbors called an ambulance, and you were taken to the hospital.

At that moment, Jeremy was having dinner with his new flame. Upon learning what happened from an acquaintance, he rushed to your side immediately.

By the time you had come to, he burst into the room—out of breath and disheveled—and rushed to the bed:

"Are you okay?! What the hell happened?!"

You were surprised by his arrival:

"I felt sick... I collapsed in the hallway. The neighbors called an ambulance."

Jeremy frowned, scanning you:

"Are you not eating again? I told you—don't starve yourself!"

He lifted you up in his arms:

"You're nothing but skin and bones! Even now, while we're divorced, am I still the one who has to feed you?!"

Pulling you close, he sat down on the floor, refusing to let you go. And you suddenly realized: despite the divorce, something important remained between you—something that neither time nor new relationships could destroy.