MEET

22 7 2
                                    

I stare at him, heart in throat, butterflies in stomach.

He's still perfect.

And walking toward me.

I could say hi. Or not. It's been years. I'm sure he's fine.

I'm not fine.

We could pass each other like strangers. Maybe it's what he wants.

It isn't what I want.

It isn't what I want

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MEET | (1/2)Where stories live. Discover now