The night air was crisp, carrying the salty scent of the ocean as I walked along the familiar stretch of beach. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the gentle waves that lapped at the shore. This place held so many memories—some beautiful, some painful—but tonight, it felt especially heavy with the past.

As I approached the old driftwood log where we used to sit, I saw a figure already there, silhouetted against the moonlit sea. My heart skipped a beat when I realized who it was.

Renz.

He turned at the sound of my footsteps, and our eyes met. The moonlight reflected in his dark eyes, making them shine with a softness I hadn't seen in a long time. He looked different—more mature, perhaps—but there was an undeniable familiarity that made my chest tighten.

"Liv?" he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

I struggled to maintain a poker face, but just seeing his face like that, devoid of pain and worries, made me smile despite myself. "Hey, Renz. Didn't expect to see you here."

He chuckled lightly, gesturing to the log. "Same could be said about you. Couldn't sleep either?"

I shrugged, moving closer and taking a seat beside him. "Something like that. This place always helps clear my head."

Renz nodded, gazing back out at the ocean. "Yeah, it does. I've missed it."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of the waves filling the gaps between us. There was so much I wanted to say, things I'd been meaning to tell him since we broke up, but the words died out before they even came out of my mouth.

He broke the silence first. "Remember when we used to come here after finals? We'd bring that old blanket and just lie here watching the stars until sunrise."

I laughed softly, the memory warming me from the inside. "How could I forget? You always insisted on bringing that terrible instant coffee to keep us awake."

He grinned, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Hey, that coffee was the only thing keeping me from passing out. Besides, you loved my coffee-making skills."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "If by 'skills' you mean adding too much sugar and barely any coffee grounds, then sure."

We both laughed, the sound blending with the crashing waves. For a moment, it was like old times—just us, the beach, and the stars overhead.

Renz's laughter faded, and he looked down at his hands, fiddling with a piece of driftwood. "I miss those days," he admitted softly.

I took a deep breath, the weight of regret settling heavily in my chest. "Me too."

He looked up at me, his eyes searching mine. "Do you ever think about... what could have been?"

I swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "All the time. They say regrets are for fools. I guess I'm a fool then—a fool for taking you for granted."

Renz's gaze softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. "We both made mistakes, Liv. It's not all on you."

I felt a lump form in my throat, and I blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. "I wish I could take our moments back. Do things differently."

He sighed, turning his attention back to the ocean. "But here we are now, under the same moon, under the same sky, and under the same stars that we used to wish forever upon."

I looked up at the sky, the stars twinkling like tiny reminders of promises we couldn't keep. "You and me," I murmured, "without 'and' in between. You and me, separated by a comma. You and me, without 'us.'"

Renz was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think it's too late for us?"

I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored my own fears and hopes. "I don't know," I admitted. "But maybe... maybe we could try being friends again? See where that takes us?"

He smiled softly, a glimmer of hope shining through. "I'd like that. I've missed having you in my life, Liv."

"I've missed you too," I replied, squeezing his hand gently.

We sat there, hands entwined, as the waves continued their endless dance along the shore. The past still lingered between us, but for the first time in a long while, the future didn't seem so daunting. Maybe we couldn't erase the mistakes we made or the pain we caused each other, but perhaps we could start anew—building something different yet equally meaningful.

As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Renz stood up, offering me his hand. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

I took his hand, allowing him to pull me up. "Just like old times," I teased.

He chuckled, wrapping his jacket around my shoulders to shield me from the morning chill. "Some things never change."

We walked side by side along the beach, leaving behind footprints that the tide would soon wash away. But as we moved forward, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, we were creating new paths for ourselves—together. At least, that's what I thought.

© reddragonfly

#exforever
(1st meet after the breakup)