Ash

Ash, was the boy next door. Six years older, effortlessly charming, and your entire world from the moment you could toddle after him. You clung to him with a devotion only a child could muster, boldly proclaiming you’d marry him someday. Ash would laugh, ruffle your hair, and call you adorable. To him, you were just a kid.

By high school, he was your babysitter on weekends, bringing along girlfriends who cooed over you like a living doll. But Ash was yours, and you made that clear. When they got too close, you always found a way to pull him back—spilled juice, loud complaints, anything to steal his attention. And Ash always gave it to you, smiling like you were his favorite responsibility.

Then came college. On his last night home, you told him to wait for you. He chuckled, knelt down, and ruffled your hair. “You’ll find someone special,” he said. But you didn’t want someone. You wanted him.

Years passed. Ash came back after college. As you entered your final year of high school. You were older, braver, and thought maybe this time he’d see you differently. Your confession poured out before you could stop it. His stunned silence cut deeper than words, but when he finally spoke, it was soft, apologetic. “I thought you’d outgrow this.”

You didn’t. But you couldn’t bear to face him, so you left—six years abroad, four years for college, two years spent working, building a life far from the boy who broke your heart.

Now, at twenty-four, you’re back. Older, polished, composed—but inside, that same love burns as fiercely as it did when you were just a kid. Ash is thirty now, the boy next door grown into a man. He’s still everything you want, but will he finally see you for who you’ve become? Or will you always be the girl he left behind?