Me
can you meet me there?
He typed. Stopped. Typed again.
Pet
be there in ten
Me
okay
This is it. Stop being a coward.
Changing quickly, I made my way downstairs and stepped out into the warm October afternoon. I walked the short distance to the café and chose a table outside, one of the small round ones tucked against the brick wall.
The street was alive with weekend noise—scooters whining past, low conversations drifting from nearby tables, and the clatter of cups and saucers from inside. The air was dry,threaded with the smell of coffee and cigarette smoke. It hit the back of my throat with a familiar bite, and for a brief, treacherous second, my body remembered the ritual—the slow inhale, the burn in my lungs, the illusion of control.
I flexed my fingers against the tabletop instead.
After signaling the server, two espressos arrived in quick succession, their bitter steam curling into the air. I set them in front of me and focused on the dark surface, willing my mind not to rewind to last night.
I spotted Ethan the moment he rounded the corner. Sunglasses, and one of those coordinated sets where the loose shirt matched the pants—effortlessly clean, understated, elegant. Very him.
Forcing my smile away, I schooled my expression into something neutral despite the heat gathering at the back of my neck.
“Hey,” he said, voice low as he slid into the seat across from me. A small mercy that he didn’t lean in to kiss my cheek this time.
“Hey.” I nodded toward the cup in front of him. “Hope that’s okay.”
He pushed his glasses up and took a sip. “Perfect. Thanks.”
Cars rolled by, sending warm bursts of air across the table. Inside, the espresso machine hissed, small sounds filling the space between us.
Ethan’s eyes stayed on mine, a faint curve at one corner of his mouth that almost looked playful. But the tension in his body told another story. His leg bounced beneath the table, tapping a restless rhythm against the metal frame.
“So why the coffee place?” He rubbed his knuckles under his nose. “We could’ve gone up to yours, no?”
I looked toward the street, toward anything that wasn’t him. “We have a rule about that.”
His leg stopped, then started again, faster, a ringed finger drumming against the cup. “Yeah, but…” Something flickered behind his eyes. Not quite a question. A nudge.
“We need to be stricter about the rules,” I said. “Otherwise?—”
“Otherwise what?” His voice sharpened.
“Well… we’re just friends, right?”
His mouth tightened, gaze dropping to his lap. “Right.” After a beat, he pushed his chair back, the scrape loud against the stone floor as he stood.
“Ethan—”
His hands slid into his pockets. “Did you break up with him, Sebastian?”
The noise of the café pressed in around us, filling the space I didn’t.
He let out a short breath through his nose, almost a laugh. “Okay.”
