The email came at 7:13 a.m. sharp.
Talia blinked at her phone, still burrowed under the covers, Ezra's arm heavy across her waist. She hadn't even fully opened her eyes when the subject line seared through her:
"Hey. I'm in town."
From: Jordan Mendez.
She sat up too fast, the blanket slipping off her shoulders.
Ezra stirred beside her. "You okay?"
Talia stared at the screen. "I think... my past just ghosted into my inbox."
He blinked, still groggy. "What?"
She turned the phone toward him. "Jordan. He's here. In the city."
Ezra frowned, then looked at her. "The Jordan?"
Talia nodded. "The 'used to be my everything until he moved to Berlin and ghosted me for an entire year' Jordan."
Ezra sat up now, more awake. "What does he want?"
She read the message aloud. "'Just wanted to say I'm visiting for a few days. If you ever feel like catching up, I'd love to see you. No pressure. Hope med school isn't eating you alive.'"
Ezra was quiet for a beat too long.
Talia bit her lip. "Say it."
"I mean…" Ezra scratched the back of his neck. "Are you going to reply?"
"I don't know. It's been so long. Part of me wants to delete it. The other part wants to… scream at him. For everything."
Ezra nodded. "That makes sense."
"But?"
"No 'but.' Just… I trust you."
Talia blinked. "Even if I meet up with him?"
Ezra looked at her fully now, voice steady. "Yeah. I trust us."
She didn't reply.
Not that day.
Instead, she walked through lectures with her thoughts tangled around old memories and new emotions. She remembered Jordan's laugh, the way he'd held her hand like he was anchoring himself. The way it felt when he left.
And the way Ezra looked at her now—like he never planned to leave.
That night, as she and Ezra sat on the couch eating leftover pasta and watching a documentary about brain injuries, Talia leaned against him and asked, "Have you ever had someone show up again after they broke you?"
Ezra didn't answer immediately.
"I think sometimes we romanticize people because we're afraid to admit we didn't really know them. Or that they didn't know us."
She nodded.
"He hurt you," Ezra added gently. "You don't owe him anything. But if you need closure... I get it."
She replied the next morning.
"Hey. It's been a while. Not sure if I can meet, but I appreciate the message. I hope you're well."
Short. Civil. Enough.
But fate, as always, had a flair for drama.
Three days later, she saw him.
Not planned. Not even expected.
She was walking into a campus café with Ezra, the cold biting at their cheeks, when the door swung open... and there he was.
Jordan.
Still tall. Still unfairly handsome in a disheveled, indie-film sort of way. His eyes widened as he saw her.
"Talia?"
Her stomach flipped.
Ezra's grip on her hand tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Jordan," she said, voice steady.
He smiled—soft, unsure. "I wasn't sure if you'd reply. Guess this is the universe making up its mind for us."
Ezra stepped forward. "Hi. I'm Ezra. Her boyfriend."
Jordan blinked. "Right. Of course."
Talia forced a smile. "We were just grabbing coffee."
Jordan hesitated. "Mind if I sit for a second? Just to say what I came to say?"
Ezra glanced at her. Her call.
She nodded.
They sat in a tense triangle.
Jordan sipped a tea he didn't seem to taste. "I just wanted to say sorry. For leaving. For not explaining. Berlin was... overwhelming. I shut down. That's not an excuse, just the truth."
Talia looked at him. "You could've said something. Anything."
"I know," he whispered. "I thought I'd spare you the mess. But I made it worse."
Ezra stayed quiet, his hand steady on her knee under the table.
"I'm not here to complicate anything," Jordan continued. "I just... wanted to say sorry. And to say I'm glad you're happy."
She swallowed. "I am. Really happy."
Jordan smiled, small and sincere. "Then I'll let you two go."
He stood, nodded at Ezra, then walked out into the snow.
Back at the apartment, Talia dropped onto the bed and let out a long breath.
Ezra sat beside her. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Actually... yeah."
He looked at her. "You don't miss him?"
She smiled, lacing her fingers with his. "I miss the idea of him. But not him. He left. You stayed."
Ezra leaned in, kissing her knuckles. "Always."
That night, as snow painted soft light against their windows, Talia curled into Ezra and finally let go of the ghost.
Jordan had been a chapter.
But Ezra?
Ezra was her story.