✦ Claire ✦
She didn't sleep that night.
The phone had stopped ringing hours ago, but its echo remained — bouncing off her ribs like the memory of something she'd buried too shallow.
Ethan.
His name sat on her screen like a warning. Like a wish.
She hadn't answered. Couldn't.
Now, Claire sat on her apartment floor with her back against the wall, knees tucked up to her chest. The soft hum of the flower shop downstairs was absent, replaced by the sound of her heartbeat and the storm outside.
Lightning cracked. Her breath caught.
It had rained the night he left, too.
"Seriously?" she whispered to no one. "What is this, the universe's idea of a rom-com?"
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it away angrily.
She wasn't that girl anymore.
She'd put herself back together. She'd learned to smile without flinching. Learned to laugh without guilt. Learned to live without him.
But tonight — with that call — it all cracked.
She picked up the phone again. Stared at his name.
She didn't press dial.
Instead, she pressed delete.
Then held her breath for a full minute after it vanished.
The next morning, she opened the shop early — not because she had to, but because she needed noise. Distraction. Something to drown out the echo of his voice in her memory.
The bell above the door jingled. Claire didn't look up.
"Give me a second," she called, arranging peonies into a vase.
"No rush."
She froze.
Dean.
She exhaled and turned, managing a smile.
"You're early."
"I figured you would be too," he said, holding up a white paper bag. "Coffee and a distraction. Pick your poison."
Claire let out a soft laugh and took the cup. "You're dangerous."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous, or charming?"
She took a sip, eyes not quite meeting his. "Both."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment. Dean glanced around, then leaned on the counter.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
Claire hesitated.
"I got a call last night… from Ethan."
Dean stiffened.
"Oh."
"I didn't answer."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head, but her voice betrayed her.
"I don't know what I want."
Dean nodded slowly. "Whatever it is… just make sure you're choosing it for you. Not for the past."
She smiled faintly. "You always say the right thing."
"Maybe. Or maybe I just really like seeing you smile."
Claire blushed. And hated that her heart stuttered.
✦ Ethan ✦
The silence on the other end of the line had been louder than anything he'd ever heard.
Claire hadn't answered.
He wasn't surprised — but it still carved something out of him.
Now, Ethan sat alone in a motel room on the edge of nowhere. The penthouse was gone. Madison was gone. The investors were gone. Even his car had been repossessed two days ago.
He was, in every sense, starting from zero.
His phone was almost dead. His wallet was nearly empty. But none of that mattered compared to the hole inside him.
He'd thought leaving Claire for ambition would give him peace.
All it gave him was noise.
A knock on the motel door broke his thoughts.
Room service? No. Too broke for that.
He opened it — and blinked.
His brother, Luke.
"Jesus," Ethan muttered. "What are you doing here?"
Luke stepped in without waiting. "I could ask you the same."
Ethan sat back down. Luke scanned the room — the peeling wallpaper, the broken lamp.
"You fall hard," Luke said.
Ethan didn't argue. He looked tired. Hollow.
Luke sighed. "Come home, man. Just for a while. You don't have to do this alone."
Ethan shook his head. "Claire's there."
"And?"
"And I don't deserve to walk back into her world like nothing happened."
Luke leaned forward. "You don't have to pretend it didn't happen. You just have to make it right."
Ethan looked away.
"I don't even know where to start."
Later that night, Ethan walked out of the motel and into the empty street. The sky was bruised with thunder. Lightning forked through the clouds.
He dialed Claire's number again.
Straight to voicemail.
His voice shook when he spoke.
"Claire… I know I'm the last person you want to hear from. And maybe I don't have the right to say this — but I'm sorry. I thought I was chasing something worth losing you for. I was wrong."
He swallowed.
"I'd give everything just to have a real conversation with you. Not to erase the past — just to say the things I never did. If you don't call back… I'll understand."
He hung up.
And sat down on the curb like a man too tired to pretend anymore.
✦ Claire ✦
She didn't listen to the voicemail at first.
She saw the missed call — and ignored it.
She saw the notification — and let it sit.
But that night, as she curled beneath the old quilt her mother made, something inside her shifted.
She pressed play.
The moment she heard his voice — soft, broken, not the Ethan she remembered — her throat tightened.
He sounded… wrecked.
He sounded honest.
Claire's heart warred with her mind. She wanted to be angry. Wanted to curse him for showing up in her life again when she was finally learning how to breathe without him.
But part of her had never stopped missing the way he said her name.
She fell asleep with the voicemail playing on loop.
The next morning, the sky cleared. Sunlight spilled across the hardwood floors of the flower shop. The scent of lilacs and soil filled the air.
Claire trimmed stems in silence.
Then made a decision.
She picked up her phone.
Typed a single message.
"If you're serious, come see me. One conversation. That's it."
Her finger hovered over send.
Then pressed it.
She didn't know what would come next.
But the silence had gone on long enough.
✦ Ethan ✦
He was halfway through a gas station burrito when the text came in.
He blinked.
Read it twice.
Then again.
His hands trembled.
He showed Luke, who gave him a single nod. "Then go. Don't waste this."
Ethan stood.
For the first time in months, his chest lifted with something like hope.