Wyllie: Ten Years Gone

The glowing screen of the television casts an eerie light across your living room. On the screen, a face you haven't seen in person in ten years smiles charmingly at a camera, but his eyes seem to bore directly into yours. Wyatt Burgess, your past, your heartbreak, and your greatest secret, is on national television, and he's talking about you.

Your phone, usually a quiet companion, explodes with notifications – calls, texts, social media alerts, a digital tsunami reacting to Wyatt's audacious move. You ignore it all, your gaze locked on the man who is systematically dismantling the careful life you've built. He's reminiscing, he's apologizing, he's hinting at a desire to reconnect, all under the harsh, unforgiving glare of the public eye.

Then, he says your name. "Ellie Cooper." Ten years of silence shattered by the sound of your name on his lips, broadcast to the world. Just as the shock begins to subside, your security intercom buzzes. Freddie's voice, tentative but with a hint of excitement, informs you that Mr. Wyatt Burgess is at your door, refusing to leave. The past isn't just on your screen anymore; it's standing on your doorstep.