Bro made up some excuse just to see his partner again 🥰

 Open the history/././''////https://www.highrevenuenetwork.com/rf1dj1x06?key=0aa16a7c0f0000b2fe614084b07ab273

Derek's phone buzzed with a text, shattering the tense silence of his apartment. It wasn't unusual for messages to come in, but the name that flashed on the screen – Sarah – sent a jolt through him. They'd called it quits a week ago, a messy tangle of unspoken expectations and hurt feelings. Yet, here she was, her name a beacon in the sea of his usual group chats.

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Sarah's text was simple: "Hey, forgot I left my favorite scarf at your place. Any chance I can swing by and grab it?"

Derek scoffed. Her favorite scarf? The oversized, neon pink monstrosity she claimed was "irreplaceable"? It was more likely a Trojan horse, a flimsy excuse to see him again. A part of him, the achy, missing-her part, wanted to believe it was genuine. But another, more cynical side, knew better.

He wasn't naive. Derek had seen the "forgotten item" routine play out before. In college, a girl "accidentally" left a hairbrush at his dorm, leading to a night of rekindled feelings (and a forgotten brush that mysteriously never reappeared). This felt different, though. Sarah wasn't playing games; at least, he didn't think so.

Derek sighed, running a hand through his hair. He missed her, the easy way they fell into conversation, the way her laugh filled a room. But the break-up was raw, the reasons still stinging. He'd wanted more commitment, a future they hadn't been on the same page about. Seeing her again, even for a "forgotten" scarf, felt like a step back, a potential re-opening of a wound that was just starting to scab over.

He typed a reply, then deleted it. Back and forth he went, crafting and erasing messages. Finally, he settled on a simple, "Sure, come on by." It wasn't enthusiastic, but it wasn't dismissive either. It left the door open, a chance to see where things stood.

Minutes ticked by, each ding of the elevator a potential herald of Sarah's arrival. When the buzzer finally did sound, a nervous energy bubbled in Derek's stomach. He opened the door to find Sarah standing there, her eyes a mix of apprehension and hope. The scarf, a garish splash of pink against her black jacket, dangled from her fingers.

"Hey," she said, her voice small. Derek stepped aside, the door a barrier between them. "Thanks for letting me come."

The air crackled with unspoken words. Derek gestured vaguely towards the living room. "Yeah, come in. The scarf's on the couch."

They settled onto opposite ends of the sofa, the silence heavy. Sarah retrieved the scarf, her gaze lingering on it for a beat too long. Derek knew he had to break the ice.

"So," he started, hating how his voice sounded unfamiliar, "how have you been?"

They fell into a hesitant conversation, a dance around the real issues. Sarah talked about work, a new project that had her stressed. Derek countered with his gym routine, a blatant attempt to project an image of a moved-on man. It was all surface-level, a polite exchange between strangers who once knew each other intimately.

As the conversation sputtered, a strange honesty started to creep in. Sarah admitted missing their movie nights. Derek confessed he still found himself reaching for his phone to text her. The vulnerability hung in the air, a shared acknowledgement of the gaping hole left by their absence from each other's lives.

The conversation shifted, turning to the reasons for the break-up. Derek spoke his truth, the need for a future he wasn't sure Sarah was ready for. Sarah mirrored his honesty, her voice trembling slightly as she admitted her fear of commitment. It wasn't a fight, but a raw, open discussion that hadn't happened before.

By the time the last rays of the setting sun painted the room in gold, a fragile understanding had formed. The forgotten scarf had been a flimsy excuse, but it had served its purpose. They both realized they weren't ready to let go completely. Maybe, they thought, there was a chance to rebuild, to communicate better, to meet each other halfway.

Derek walked Sarah out to the elevator, a tentative smile on his face. "Hey," he said, before the doors closed. "Maybe we can grab coffee sometime, not for a scarf, just to talk?"

Sarah's smile mirrored his. "I'd like that," she replied, the elevator doors whispering shut behind her.