The Man I Never Forgot
The room felt too small for the weight of the past.
I had replayed this moment a thousand times in my head — imagined what I would say, how I would look, whether I would slap him or simply walk away with dignity. In every version, I was stronger. Colder. Unbothered.
But nothing prepared me for the way my heart betrayed me.
The door creaked open, and the air shifted. Conversations faded into a distant hum.
Slowly, I turned.
And there he was.
Not a memory. Not a dream. Not a ghost from a chapter I thought I had finally closed.
Micheal Virera — the man who had broken me and built me in the same breath — was standing right in front of me.
Older. Sharper. Annoyingly familiar.
And looking at me like I was the one who had disappeared.
I wasn't supposed to see him again.
Not after five years.
Not after the night he walked away while I begged him to stay.
Yet there he was — standing in the lobby of my new workplace, dressed in a tailored suit, confidence written all over his face. My heart stumbled, just like it did all those years ago.
Luca, unaware to my inner chaos, squeezed my hand. "Mommy, who is that man?"
I swallowed hard. Because the man my son was pointing at… was his father.
"You look amazing," he says, with the same smirk that made me fall in love.
My fingers tighten around my bag. Five years, and he still knows exactly how to undo me with just one look.
"Don't," I say quietly.
His brows knit together. "Don't what?"
"Don't look at me like that. Like nothing changed."
He exhales slowly, eyes dropping to Luca — who is now staring up at him with curious, innocent eyes.
"Is he yours?" he asks, his voice lower now. Careful.
My heart slams against my ribs.
"Yes," I answer, before I can stop myself.
Silence stretches between us. Heavy. Dangerous.
Then he kneels slightly, meeting my son's eye level.
"What's your name, buddy?"
"Luca," my son replies proudly. "My mommy says I'm very brave."
His jaw tightens. Because Luca has his eyes.
And I can tell — he sees it too.
"Well, I bet she is right, because your mommy is smart and very honest."
He wiggles Luca's cheeks, leaving him defenseless in laughter.
My heart does a funny flip. He's so gentle with him… and yet, with me, it's still fire and ice.
"You're trouble," I murmur under my breath, more to myself than him.
He looks up, smirk tugging at his lips. "You love it," he says softly.
I stiffen. That tone… it's the same one that kept me awake at night for months, the one that whispered promises I never believed he'd keep.
Luca suddenly tugs on my sleeve. "Mommy, he's nice. Can I show him my new collection of Lego's?"
The words hit me like a wave. Luca wants to show him his toys? Luca never shows his toys to anyone, why is he so eager to show this man his toys? My mind races back five years… the pain, the heartbreak, the memories I swore I'd buried.
He stands up slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his suit. His eyes flick to mine — piercing, unreadable, dangerous.
"Lego's… huh?" he murmurs, voice low. "You're tempting me, Luca."
My breath catches. And just like that, the air around us is thick with things unsaid, memories unresolved, and a tension neither of us can ignore.
Then, my phone buzzes in my bag. I glance at it — a reminder from work.
"I… I have to go," I say, forcing a smile.
He doesn't move, doesn't blink. "We'll finish this later," he says, voice almost a whisper.
And with that, he walks away — but I know, deep down, this isn't over. Not by a long shot.