Always Been You: By Lily Miller

The wall Maya had spent five years building around her heart crumbled in a single second. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She reached up, placing her hand on the back of his neck, and pulled him down to her.

"How have you been, Maya?" he asked. The use of her name sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "Good," she lied. "Busy. Chicago is... fast." "And are you happy?"

Maya’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She couldn't look away. "Liam, we decided back then that we wanted different things. You wanted to stay here, and I wanted to run." Always Been You by Lily Miller

Liam nodded, his gaze drifting out to the rain. "Yeah. It keeps me grounded. But something has been missing."

"I'm working hard," Maya countered, dodging the question. "What about you? I heard you took over your dad's firm." The wall Maya had spent five years building

The rain was relentless, mirroring the storm brewing in Maya’s chest. She stood at the edge of the covered porch, watching the drops create ripples in the puddles. Behind her, the sounds of the party were a distant hum. Laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft strumming of an acoustic guitar. She shouldn't have come back to Oakridge. "I knew I’d find you out here."

Maya finally looked at him. He looked different, more mature. The boyish roundness in his face was gone, replaced by sharp lines and a shadow of stubble. But his eyes were exactly the same—a deep, searching hazel that always made her feel like he could see directly into her soul. She reached up, placing her hand on the

"I’m not interested in the party," Liam replied. He stepped up beside her, leaning his tall frame against the wooden railing. He was wearing a simple dark sweater, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the faint trace of a scar on his forearm from a summer they had shared a lifetime ago.