Tom's POV
I got home with my head completely fucked, thoughts crashing into each other like they were fighting for space. My brain wouldn't shut up. That voice on the phone kept replaying, over and over, like some sick loop I didn't ask for.
I pushed the door open and nearly jumped out of my skin.
My mom was standing right there, arms crossed, wearing this weirdly smug, knowing grin. Like she'd been waiting. Which, apparently, she had.
"Well, thank God you came straight home," she said, eyes scanning me. "You've been hanging out with that girl quite an awful lot. I didn't think you'd be home this early."
I rolled my eyes, forcing myself to act normal even though my insides were screaming. "Yeah, well, I wanted to come home, Mom. Big whoop," I said flatly, already turning toward the stairs. I just wanted my room. My space. Somewhere I could finally breathe.
Then she spoke again.
"Someone is here to see you. She's in the living room."
I stopped dead in my tracks, every nerve in my body was suddenly on high alert.
My foot froze mid-step, my entire body going rigid like I'd been struck by lightning. My stomach dropped so fast it felt like it hit the floor. The timing was too fucking perfect. Too cruel.
"Who?" I asked, my voice flat, controlled—way more than I felt. Inside, my mind was spiraling, racing through every possibility, every memory I didn't want to drag back up.
My mom just shrugged, that damn grin still plastered on her face. Like she knew something I didn't. Or worse—something I did know but wasn't ready to face.
And suddenly, the house felt way too quiet.
Hesitantly, I made my way toward the living room, every step heavy like my feet were bolted to the fucking floor. My pulse was loud in my ears, drowning out everything else. Part of me hoped I was hallucinating. That if I turned the corner, no one would be there and I could laugh it off later like some sick joke my brain pulled on me.
But then I turned the corner.
And there she was.
"Cassie?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper, like saying it any louder might shatter whatever fragile reality I was standing in.
She turned the second she heard me.
And when her eyes landed on mine, behind the thick glasses, her face lit up.
"Tommy?" she said softly, like my name still belonged to her.
She stood up, slow and unsure, like she was afraid I'd disappear if she moved too fast.
Fuck.
She looked… different. Better. The acne she'd battled through middle school was gone, her skin clear and warm, almost glowing in the afternoon light spilling through the window. Her hair framed her face neatly now, softer somehow. She was wearing an oversized sweater, sleeves too long, fidgeting with them like she always used to when she was nervous, and pleated skirt.
And the glasses—still there.
I remembered her swearing she'd ditch them the second we hit high school.
"In high school I'm gonna get contacts," she'd said a hundred times, grinning like she had the whole future mapped out. "Or laser eye surgery. I'll be popular. You'll see, Tommy."
Yeah. We'll see.
Fuck, there used to be a we.An us.Something stupid and fragile and real.
And for half a second—just a tiny, fucked-up second—I felt it. That old pull. That familiar warmth in my chest that had no business still existing.
But it vanished just as fast.
Because no amount of pretty could erase the past.No clear skin, no soft smile, no nostalgic bullshit could undo the anger that clenched my gut, the hurt that still burned when I least expected it, the betrayal that rewired something in me permanently.
She took a step toward me, her eyes glossed over, and for a second I saw the girl she used to be—the one who sat next to me on the bus, who shared earbuds, who promised shit she couldn't keep, but I didn't move. Didn't smile. Didn't step back either.
I just stood there, staring at the girl who used to be my whole world—and realizing she was now standing in the middle of a life I'd rebuilt without her.
And whatever this reunion was supposed to be?
It sure as hell wasn't going to be simple.