The Welcome Back Party
The subway ride to Ravenna's place feels longer than usual. Every stop gives me another chance to change my mind. I don't take it. By the time I reach her building, the sky has darkened into that deep blue that always makes the city lights look brighter than they are.
Music spills faintly down the stairwell when I climb up. I pause outside the door. My hand hovers above the handle. You can still leave, a voice in my head whispers. No one inside knows I'm here yet. I could walk away, go home, make tea, open my laptop, pretend tonight never happened. But another thought pushes through. You've been running long enough.
I take a breath and push the door open.
The apartment is already crowded. Warm light fills the room, mixing with the sound of laughter and overlapping conversations. Someone has opened the balcony doors despite the cold, and a thin ribbon of night air slips through the space. For a moment I just stand there, letting the noise wash over me.
Then Ravenna appears.
"Zara!" Before I can react she's pulling me into a hug. "You came," she says, sounding genuinely surprised.
"I said I might."
"You say that every time." She pulls back, studying me. "Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Ravenna raises an eyebrow. "Because Adrian is here."
My stomach tightens. "I know."
Her expression softens slightly. "You don't have to stay long," she says quietly. "Just... say hi. Be civil. Remember? Then escape if you want."
Civil. It sounds easy in theory.
My eyes drift across the room before I can stop them. And then I see him. Adrian is standing near the window, half turned toward a group of people I vaguely recognize from college. One hand rests casually in his pocket while the other holds a glass. He's laughing. The sound doesn't reach me through the noise, but I recognize the shape of it—the slight tilt of his head, the way his shoulders relax when something genuinely amuses him.
For a second everything inside me goes still. Four years. Four years of distance, silence, and unanswered questions collapse into a single moment. He looks the same. Not exactly. There's something steadier about him now, something older around the edges, but it's still unmistakably Adrian. Like someone pulled him straight out of my memory.
Ravenna follows my gaze. "Don't panic," she murmurs.
"I'm not panicking."
"You're staring."
I blink and force my eyes away. Too late. When I look back, Adrian is already watching me. Our eyes meet across the room. For a brief moment neither of us moves. Then he says something to the people around him and starts walking toward me. Each step feels louder than the music. Closer. Closer. Until he's standing right in front of me.
"Zara." My name sounds strange on his voice after so long. Familiar, but distant. Like hearing a song you haven't played in years.
"Hi," I say softly.
For a second we just look at each other. Adrian studies my face like he's comparing the present to a memory.
"It's been a while," he says.
"Four years," I reply before I can stop myself.
Something flickers in his expression. "Yeah," he says quietly. "About that."
The silence that follows feels heavier than it should. I suddenly become very aware of the people around us, of Ravenna standing awkwardly nearby pretending not to watch.
"How have you been?" Adrian asks. The question sounds normal enough. But something about it feels careful.
"Good," I say. It's the easiest lie I know.
He nods slowly. "That's good."
Before the conversation can go anywhere else, a voice interrupts from behind him. "Adrian, I think someone stole my drink."
A woman steps up beside him. She's beautiful in a quiet way; dark and short hair, soft features, the kind of relaxed confidence that makes me immediately aware of how tense I feel.
Adrian turns slightly. "Oh, Zara, this is Claire."
Claire smiles warmly. "Nice to meet you," she says. "I've heard a lot about this friend group."
Friend group. The phrase lands strangely in my chest.
"Nice to meet you," I reply.
Claire slips her arm casually through Adrian's. The gesture looks natural. Easy. Like something she's done many times before. "We've been seeing each other a little," she adds lightly.
Not serious, Ravenna had said. Still. The words settle somewhere under my ribs in a way I don't like. Adrian glances at me quickly, like he's trying to read my reaction. But I've had years to learn how to hide things.
"So," he says, shifting his attention back to me, "what are you doing these days?"
"I'm working as a photographer."
His eyebrows lift slightly. "Still behind the camera, huh?"
"Always."
"That's good." He says it sincerely. For a moment the tension eases.
Then someone calls Claire's name from across the room. "Hold on," she says, releasing Adrian's arm. "I'll be right back."
She disappears into the crowd. The quiet that follows feels different now. More fragile. Adrian rubs the back of his neck slightly, like he's not sure what to say next.
"I didn't know if you'd come tonight," he admits.
"Ravenna insisted."
He smiles faintly. "Yeah. She tends to do that."
Another pause stretches between us.
"So," he says after a moment, "how's photography going?"
"It's good."
"Freelance?"
"Mostly," I say. "Some agency work too."
He nods thoughtfully. "That suits you."
"What does?"
"The observing."
I frown slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Adrian shrugs. "You always preferred watching things happen instead of being in the middle of them."
He says it casually. But the words hit closer than he probably realizes.
Before I can respond, Ravenna swoops back in. "Okay," she announces brightly, handing me a drink I didn't ask for. "You two look like you're having a very emotionally loaded reunion, and I refuse to supervise it."
Adrian laughs softly. "Still subtle, I see."
"Never." She grins and disappears again.
I take a small sip from the glass, mostly to give my hands something to do. Adrian watches me for a moment. Then he says something that catches me completely off guard.
"You look good, Zara."
My heart stumbles slightly. "Thanks."
He nods once, like that's enough. Across the room, Claire is laughing with someone near the kitchen. Adrian follows my gaze. For a moment his expression becomes unreadable. Then he looks back at me.
"It was good seeing you," he says. The sentence feels like a quiet ending.
"Yeah," I reply.
He hesitates. Then he steps back slightly. "Maybe I'll see you around."
The words sound simple. But something about them feels like a door half closing. Adrian turns and walks back toward the crowd.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the place where he was standing. My chest feels strangely tight. Because the worst part isn't that Adrian brought someone tonight. It's realizing how easily he walked away from this conversation. Like seeing me again didn't change anything at all. And that thought lingers long after the music fades into the background.
Maybe four years really was enough time to move on.
For him.