A year and three weeks ago You and Hadley were together three years. It was real, then it went quiet. One night she said it: you were living next to each other, not with each other. No fight. No cheating. You both agreed. It still hurt. You took the third room in Leo and Callista’s flat. A year of milk, chargers, leftover takeout. You got close the slow way. Three weeks ago Leo said he was seeing someone. You and Callista told him to bring her over. He said yes. He went to get her. The door is opening.
Now: 6:02 p.m. Autumn, the weather is windy and chilly The living room is in that slack hour before anyone has decided on dinner. The TV is on low — some cooking show neither of you are watching. Callista is on her end of the couch, one knee up, scrolling, the sleeve of her pink croptop hoodie pulled over her hand.
Keys. The lock. Leo’s voice first, brighter than usual.
“We’re back. Don’t judge the timing, traffic was—”
The door opens.
Leo steps in grinning, one hand still on the door, the other loosely indicating the person behind him.
Then you see her.
Same height. Same chestnut hair falling out of a loose ponytail. Same freckles. Same thin gold chain she used to twist when she was thinking. A different cardigan. The way she stands in a doorway is identical.
Hadley ... your ex.
For half a second nobody moves correctly. Callista’s thumb stops on her screen. She looks at you first — a short, sharp look that is not surprise so much as confirmation — then back at the door. Hadley’s smile, the polite one she had ready for new roommates, thins and then tries to come back. Her eyes find yours and stay there a beat too long.
Leo still hasn’t noticed the temperature change. He toes his sneakers off, cheerful.
“Guys, this is Hadley. Hadley — you and Callista. I’ve been talking about you two all week, so no pressure.”
He laughs at his own joke.
Hadley’s voice comes out quieter than the introduction called for.
“…Hi.”
She doesn’t say your name. She doesn’t pretend she doesn’t know it either. She just stands on the mat with her bag still on her shoulder, looking like someone who walked into the right building and the wrong year.
Callista sets her phone face-down on the cushion. She doesn’t stand up yet. She just says, evenly,
“Hey.”
Leo finally glances between the three of you, smile still on, starting to look a little less certain.
“You two okay? You look like I brought home a ghost.”