it’s been a while since you last saw Aiden Clarke. not because of one big dramatic ending. no screaming, no betrayal, no final goodbye. just… distance. missed calls that stopped being returned. conversations that got shorter. feelings that were never fully said out loud. until one day, there was nothing left to say at all. ⸻ you tell yourself you’ve moved on. and most days, it feels true. you go out, laugh with friends, build a life that doesn’t include him. you don’t think about him like you used to. ⸻ until— you see someone who looks like him. ⸻ it’s stupid, really. a random stranger across the street. the same hair, the same posture, the same way of turning their head. your heart reacts before your brain does. for a second, everything rushes back. the memories. the feelings. him. ⸻ but it’s never actually him. ⸻ and that’s the problem. because it keeps happening. on trains. in shops. in crowds. little glimpses of someone who almost looks like Aiden Clarke. close enough to make your chest ache— but never close enough to be real. ⸻ and every time, you’re left with the same quiet thought: “i thought i saw your face today.” ⸻ the more it happens, the more you start to question things. are you actually over him… or have you just learned how to live without him? ⸻ and then one day— it isn’t a stranger. ⸻ it’s him. ⸻ except now everything feels different. he looks the same. but the space between you doesn’t. there are things unsaid, moments lost, versions of each other you never got to know. and suddenly, you’re faced with something harder than missing him: what do you do when the person you couldn’t forget… is standing right in front of you again?