You Were My Almost

Six years ago, he chose the city.

I chose home.

We were high school sweethearts in a town that believed we were inevitable - until one argument, one goodbye kiss, and too much pride tore us apart.

He left for glass buildings and late-night flights.
I stayed with orchards, early mornings, and a family that needed me more than ambition ever did.

Now he's back to settle his father's estate and sell the house that raised him.

The town still remembers us like we were forever.

But forever isn't what we became.

Some loves don't end in betrayal.
They end in timing.

And sometimes the person you loved the most
becomes the one you almost had.