Gregory paced back and forth outside the Crossroad Country Bar, its neon sign casting a warm glow against the night sky. Taking a deep breath, he relished the familiar scent of earth and distant pine trees mingling with the sharp tang of alcohol wafting from inside. After a moment's hesitation, he finally decided to walk toward the entrance.

The door flung open as he approached, and a pair of giggling women stumbled out, nearly colliding with him.

"Oh, hello!" They sang in unison, clearly intoxicated. He nodded politely, holding the door as they stumbled past and hopped into a car. Relieved they weren't driving, he stepped inside.

The bar was lively, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Warm, amber lighting bathed the room, creating an inviting atmosphere. Rustic wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, and the walls were decorated with vintage country mementos—old cowboy hats, sepia-toned photographs, and worn-out guitars. The scent of spilled beer, grilled food, and cigarette smoke mixed in the air, creating a heady, familiar aroma.

Country music played softly in the background, and the twang of guitars and the smooth drawl of the singer added to the cozy, welcoming atmosphere. People crowded around the wooden bar, where a row of amber-lit bottles gleamed behind the bartender. The sound of pool balls clacking together emanated from a corner, where a group of friends cheered and jeered at each shot.

He scanned the room, searching for Jane. His heart raced as he spotted her in a corner, her red hair catching the light. She sat at a small table, a half-empty glass of water in front of her, seemingly lost in thought. The lively chatter and bustling activity around her only heightened her solitude.

Memories of their last conversation flooded back as he approached her. She looked up and smiled warmly as he reached their table.

"Greg!" Jane stood and hugged him. "It's been so long!"

"It has," he replied, looking back at her. "You look great, Jane."

"So do you," she said, her eyes searching his face. "Sit down. Let's catch up."

They settled into their seats, and a waitress appeared to take their drink orders. He ordered a whiskey while Jane chose a beer. The initial tension began to ease as they waited, replaced by a bittersweet nostalgia.

"So," she began, twiddling her fingers, "I see you got my letter."

"I did," he smiled, feeling a rush of emotions.

"I tried to call you... but it looks like you changed your number."

"Yes, well… Grandpa did," he finally replied, remembering his grandfather's control over his life.

The waitress returned with their drinks a few minutes later, smiling flirtatiously at Gregory. He thanked her, noticing Jane's amused expression. The waitress had lingered longer than necessary, her flirtatious demeanor evident.

"I see you still have your charms," Jane remarked, her arms crossed, after the waitress finally left.

"So it seems," he laughed, acknowledging the subtle flirtation.

"What have you been up to?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I've been traveling, trying to find myself, I guess. It's been a journey, but I'm back now."

"Honestly, I didn't expect you to be back so soon."

She sipped her beer, her eyes locked on his, her expression unreadable.

"Do you ever think about the old days?"

"Every day," he admitted, taking a big sip of his whiskey, lost in memories.

"I've missed you, Greg. More than you know." She reached across the table, her hand covering his.

His heart ached at her touch, the memories overwhelming him. But he knew things were different now. He was married, and despite the turmoil in his marriage, he couldn't ignore his vows or responsibilities.

Their conversation lapsed into silence, tension thick in the air.

"I've missed you too, Jane," he said softly. "But things are complicated now. I'm married."

Her eyes flickered with what appeared to be understanding, yet he discerned a lingering frustration beneath the surface. Despite her outward calmness, he understood her well enough not to be entirely deceived.

"I know," she said, her voice gentle but tinged with a hint of disappointment. "But I can't help but wonder if there's still a chance for us. "He looked away, torn between his past and present. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to say next. Then his phone rang, giving him an escape from the intense conversation. Seeing his assistant's name on the caller ID, he excused himself. He stepped outside, the music and cheers growing louder behind him.

"Yes?" he answered, stepping into the night air.