Have You Ever

  The grocery bags were heavy in my arms, my mind on autopilot as I wove through the crowded mall, barely paying attention—until I saw him. It had been years. More than enough time for wounds to heal, for memories to blur, yet the sight of him stopped me cold. His name formed on my lips before I even realized I was saying it. He turned, just as startled, and then came the smile—warm, familiar, like no time had passed at all. We started talking right there in the middle of the store, blocking foot traffic, laughing over how fate had thrown us together after so long. He suggested we grab a quick bite at a nearby restaurant, and I didn’t hesitate. Dinner stretched into hours. The conversation flowed too easily, as if the past had never hardened around us. He had changed—wiser, calmer—but so had I. And yet, some things had remained the same, lingering beneath the surface. Eventually, we moved to his car, parked in a shadowed corner of the lot, the outside world forgotten as we kept...