Eliot never liked being the center of attention.
Now he was standing at the center of the universe.
At least, that's how it felt—with the entire café hanging off his next breath, the glowing rectangles of dozens of livestreams angled toward him like stage lights, illuminating all his mistakes, all his hesitation, all the things he should've said months ago.
Four girls.Four stories.Four versions of him, reflected back through their eyes like fractured glass.
And now it was time to stop pretending someone else was going to make the call for him.
"Alright," he said, steady. "Here it is."
Silence. Heavy. Electric.
Scarlett was standing now too, posture casual but eyes sharp. Rina was practically daring him to pick wrong. Zoe looked like she wanted to disappear. Dahlia hadn't moved, but her notebook was clenched between her fingers like she was gripping it to stay upright.
"I care about all of you," Eliot started. "I do."
Scarlett's chin lifted just a fraction. Zoe's lip trembled. Rina's hands curled into fists at her sides. Dahlia didn't blink.
Eliot's heart hammered.
"But there's only one person I think about when I'm alone. Only one person who makes me feel like I'm allowed to stop pretending I've got it together."
One. Final. Breath.
He looked right at—
Zoe.
Everyone exhaled at once, like a collective universe had been holding its breath.
Zoe's eyes went wide. "Me?"
Eliot laughed, and it broke something in him—something tight, something guilty. "Yeah. You. Always you."
Zoe's face folded, not into tears, but into something harder: disbelief mixed with anger mixed with hope, fighting like wild animals in the same ribcage. "Why now?"
"Because I'm an idiot," Eliot said honestly. "Because I was scared. Because I didn't want to lose anyone. And that's exactly how I almost lost you."
For a second, nobody moved. Not Scarlett. Not Dahlia. Not even Rina.
Then Rina laughed—a short, bitter sound—but nodded like she'd already seen this ending before it arrived. "Of course. The childhood friend wins. Classic."
Dahlia just closed her notebook and stood. "I'll write something better than this someday," she said softly. Not to hurt him. Just to promise herself.
Scarlett? Scarlett didn't speak at all. She just smiled—that perfect smile, sharp and camera-ready—and turned on her heel like royalty walking away from a burning palace.
But Zoe?
Zoe stepped closer. Not running into his arms. Not movie-scene kisses. Just… close. The kind of close that said this isn't over. The kind of close that meant we start from here.
"Don't screw it up," she whispered.
Eliot smiled, finally real. "Working on it."
The livestreams didn't get their dramatic kiss.
But they got something better:
The truth.
Finally.