The Cologne You Kept

I see my ex for the first time since we broke up,but I smell them before I find them.

Same cologne.One breath, and my body remembers Rowan before my heart is ready.

The living room still has the buffet table nobody's touching. Somewhere behind you, a casserole dish clinks.

Jare. Hey. You went somewhere for a second there.

You don't have to stay out here. But you also don't have to pretend you're fine.

I’m always fine.

Right. Famous last words of every person standing rigidly at a funeral afterparty.

You've refilled that napkin three times. There's nothing in it.

Across the room, Avery is handing out hugs to people you half-know. Family duty, done gracefully.

Avery keeps glancing at the door, by the way. Like they're waiting for someone specific.

who are you waiting for?

You say it to the room more than to Jamie, but Avery catches it anyway — they've drifted close enough to hear.

Me? I'm not waiting. I'm hosting. It's what you do when it's your cousin's best friend's house and nobody else will.

You doing okay, Jare? You look like you saw a ghost.

Then the crowd by the doorway shifts, and a gap opens in it.

Before you see anything, you catch it — warm, familiar, hitting the back of your throat like

a name you stopped letting yourself say.

The room narrows to that one breath.

it’s her!

Jare —

What? Who?

Jamie's hand finds your sleeve, but the room has already gone quiet in your ears.

The cologne hangs in the air between the door and the buffet, and you turn toward it before you can stop yourself.

Somewhere in this crowd, close enough to breathe the same air, is the person you last spoke to through a closed door.

Avery is still watching you. Jamie hasn't let go of your sleeve.

Breathe. You turned around like the room owed you something.

The crowd thins in slow motion, shoulders and strangers' backs parting.

Then I find them across the room.

Rowan has one arm around someone I have never seen before.

Same face I spent months teaching myself not to miss.

Rowan looks up.

The second they see me, their smile disappears.

Rowan walks away first

The cologne stays behind.

Jamie appears beside me.

“You know Rowan stopped wearing that after you broke up.”

I look across the room.

Jamie lowers their voice.

“Tonight is the first time they wore it again.”

The words land in your chest before you can sort them. First time. Again.

Across the room, Rowan stands alone now — the stranger they had an arm around has drifted toward the food.

I shouldn't have told you that. But you deserved to know before you decided anything.

Rowan's eyes find yours across the room. This time, they don't walk away.

They hesitate, then start toward you — slowly, like someone approaching a door they're not sure still opens.

I'll be right over there. Say what you need to say, Jare.

ok. I’m walking over there to see her now.

You cross the room one careful step at a time, past people folded into their grief,

and the cologne thickens with every step.

Rowan stops a few feet away. Close enough to touch. Far enough to be polite about it.

Jare.

I wasn't sure you'd actually come tonight. Jamie said —

They stop themselves, jaw tightening, like they've said too much already.

I'm sorry. About Sam. I know that's why we're both here, and I didn't want it to be about anything else.

Their hands hang at their sides, restless. They smell like every morning you ever woke up next to them.

You stand there in the scent of it, and Rowan watches you breathe it in. They don't look away.

You noticed. Of course you noticed. You always could.

Jare, the night we ended, you talked through a door. I talked through a door. Nobody said the real thing.

I wasn't going to let tonight be another door.

Their voice drops low, meant for you alone.

I didn't come here to hide from you. Whatever you're thinking about this — about me — ask me. I'll answer.

Behind you, Avery's footsteps slow to a stop. You can feel them looking.

You feel Avery at your back before you hear them, close enough that their shadow touches yours.

The question you were about to ask sits in your throat, unfinished.

Rowan's eyes flick past your shoulder, and something in their face shifts.

Avery looks between us.

“I should probably clear something up.”

“Rowan and I are not together.”

My chest forgets how to breathe.

Avery gives Rowan a look.

“Tell them why you wore it.”

Rowan looks down.

“I kept one bottle.”

“I haven’t touched it since we ended.”

Their eyes finally meet mine.

“Jamie told me you might be here tonight.”

“I wore it because I needed to know if you would still turn around.”

I hate that I did.

I hate more that part of me is glad I did.

Rowan takes one step closer.

“I never stopped loving you.”

For one second

every ending I imagined starts rewriting itself.

Then Rowan whispers,

“But loving each other was never the part we were bad at.”

And there it is.

The reason we ended,

still standing between us.

Rowan leaves before either of us can turn memory into another promise.

The door closes.

I realize some people stop being yours long before

they stop feeling like home.