“What does that mean?”
I hesitated, staring down at the flyer like it might give me something clearer to say.
“I thought it felt like something,” I said quietly. “But maybe it wasn’t.”
“Dane’s a shifter,” I continued, the thought slipping out before I could stop it, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it easier to understand. “He has this whole life that doesn’t really have anything to do with me.”
“Seth,” Janine said gently, but I was already past the point of stopping.
“I know how this ends,” I said before I could think better of it.
“No.” Janine’s expression sharpened immediately. “No, you don’t. You can’t decide things are over before they even start.”
Something uncomfortable settled low in my chest, sharp and familiar.
“That’s not fair,” I said instead.
“It isn’t fair,” she agreed without hesitation. “To Dane.”
Then she pointed at me lightly. “And it’s not fair to you either.”
I looked away again, jaw tightening.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“I think you’re making it complicated.”
A short, humorless laugh slipped out before I could stop it. “Thanks.”
“I’m serious.” She shook her head slightly. “You act like you don’t have a choice.”
I opened my mouth to argue.
The words were all there, old and familiar arguments I had leaned on before without thinking.
That it wasn’t that simple. That I knew how this ended. People left eventually, no matter how good things felt at the beginning.
But as I sat there with Janine watching me, I realized I couldn’t actually turn any of those thoughts into something solid enough to say out loud.
Not in a way that would hold up under scrutiny. Not in a way that even sounded convincing to me, let alone anyone else.
So I didn’t say any of it.
The bell above the café door broke through the moment.
Dane stood just inside the doorway, and for a second my mind went completely blank.
Janine gave a low, satisfied sound beside me. “I’ll leave you two.”
“Wait—” I started, not entirely sure what I wanted to stop her from doing, but she was already moving.
She passed Dane on her way out from behind the counter, pausing just long enough to give him a look that somehow managed to be both amused and faintly intimidating before topping up a nearby customer’s coffee.
The air between Dane and me stretched in a way that made me hyperaware of every small movement I made. I wiped down the counter even though it was already clean, just to have something to do.
“Hey,” he said finally, walking up to the counter. After a beat, he added, “You busy?”
“Not really,” I said.
