Title: “The Last First Date”

The reservation had been Nora’s idea. “Just dinner,” she’d said over text. Casual. No pressure. No expectations.

But as Liam stepped into the warm, low-lit restaurant on Franklin Street, he felt anything but casual. His tie suddenly felt too tight. His palms, too damp. Maybe it was the familiar smell of her favorite place—spiced wine and rosemary—or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen her in three years. Not really.

She was already at the table.

Nora looked up from her phone and smiled, and just like that, Chapel Hill faded away. All he could see was the girl who used to steal fries off his tray and kiss him behind the bleachers during halftime.

“You clean up nice, Liam Hughes,” she teased.

He gave her a slow grin. “You say that like I was a lost cause.”

“You were a walking hoodie. I rest my case.”

They laughed, and something clicked. Like time hadn’t managed to pull everything apart.

They ordered dinner—she got the same pesto pasta she’d always loved; he went with steak, because he knew she’d want a bite—and talked about everything and nothing. Grad school plans, internships, her year abroad in Spain. His startup job in Durham. Her part-time gig at a local publishing house. They were grown-ups now. Kind of.

“So,” she said, twirling her fork through pasta she’d barely touched. “Do you ever think about high school?”

He blinked. “Sometimes.”

“I do. More than I should. Like… I think about how we thought we knew everything back then. And how we broke up like it wouldn’t matter.”

He set his fork down slowly. “Does it matter?”

Her eyes flicked to his, and the air between them shifted.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Does it?”

He didn’t answer right away. He looked at her. Really looked. Her hair was shorter now, curling just beneath her chin. Her lipstick was darker than she used to wear, and her laugh lines had deepened. But her eyes—those soft, searching eyes—were the same.

“I missed you,” he said, voice rougher than he wanted it to be.

She exhaled. “I missed you too. Even when I didn’t want to.”

Their waitress came and went, offering a refill they both declined. Silence bloomed in her absence.

“We were kids,” Nora finally said. “We had to go live different lives. But—God, Liam, you were my first everything. And I thought that meant you couldn’t be my forever too.”

He reached across the table, hesitating just before his fingers brushed hers.

“And now?”

Her lips parted, and he saw it. The truth written across her face like a chapter he already knew by heart.

“Now I’m not so sure we were wrong,” she said.

The room faded. The years fell away.

He stood and rounded the table, offering her his hand. “Come on.”

“What? Where?”

“The last time I kissed you, it was raining in your driveway. That can’t be the last one.”

She stared at him, breath catching in her throat, then slipped her hand into his.

They stepped outside, and though the sky was clear and the air warm, the feeling was the same. Electric. Charged.

He pulled her gently toward him, and she didn’t resist.

“This is a terrible idea,” she murmured against his chest.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “But maybe it’s the best one we’ve had in a while.”

And when he kissed her, it wasn’t like the first time or the last time—it was something new entirely. Something inevitable.

She smiled when they pulled apart. “Still steak and pesto?”

He laughed, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “Still us.”