Jason sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands clasped tightly together. His parents were seated across from him, their faces etched with concern, while Y/N’s parents stood by the fireplace. Jameson, her father, looked particularly agitated, pacing back and forth like a storm waiting to erupt.

“Mr. Jameson,” Jason began, his tone calm but firm, “it’s been two months. Two months since she’s been back, and look at her. She’s not herself. She’s stuck in this limbo, torn between a life she loves here and a love she’s left behind. Can’t you see? She’s… she’s not living.”