The next day, Ethan invited me to a café so we could discuss our project. I let out a long sigh, shoved my phone back into my jeans pocket, and muttered,
"Ethan is too much. It's finally the weekend—I want to enjoy my boba, some tea, maybe read a book—but no, he had to disturb me."
I walked out of the living room after Mom reminded me to be careful.
As I strolled down the street walking through the 'I LOVE YOU PARK'', my eyes caught sight of many couples—so lovey-dovey it was almost annoying.
There was a person engaging with someone special, a girl clinging to her beloved boyfriend, and old couples sharing kisses while mumbling sweet nothings to each other.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness. Not to mention the old folks—are they trying to set a world record for the most kisses in a day?
Lost in my judgments about everyone's love lives, I suddenly bumped into something hard.
A person stumbled, and I saw his drink spill all over his hands. When I looked up, I froze.
"Mr... Mr... Mr. Ronson?" I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. My eyes widened as I recognized him.
"Oh, I'm sorry…"
He smiled gently and shook my hand, which was now sticky with spilled drink.
"It's okay, sweetie… I mean, it's okay," he said, trying to sound reassuring, though I could see a hint of embarrassment in his eyes.
I gulped hard and started to turn away because just seeing him made my heart ache even more.
Then, softly, he whispered, "So, your mother didn't tell you, right? Yana?"
''To give me another chance.''
I froze in place, my eyes widening as tears welled up.
That name—Yana—that was what he used to call me when I was little.
I remembered vividly: I was five years old, clutching his hand as he smiled down at me. The memory was etched into my brain like a favorite childhood story.
He continued, voice trembling.
"I tried to contact you many times..." Gritting his teeth, he added, "But she didn't want anything to do with me… just because I didn't listen I was so stubborn, I made a mistake...."
I took a deep breath, trying to process everything.
"What do you mean? what mistake? did you do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Ronson looked away, glancing over my shoulder.
"It's because of What I used to do before...It cost me everything," he said softly, sighing .
" You should ask your mom she would tell you everything'' he said and my tears couldn't help but spilled.
I nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and dread.
I really needed to know why Dad—no, I mean, Mr. Ronson—left us.
I just hoped this wasn't another one of those stories that would break my heart all over again... with a side of irony, because I never thought I'd be having this kind of serious conversation while standing in the middle of the street.
I spun around sharply, my voice trembling as I blurted out.
"Then why did you leave? if you knew you were not wrong? why?" My heart pounded so hard I thought it might leap out of my chest.
''Why did you leave me and Jake?''
He paused, and I could see him hesitate for a second, then softly replied over his shoulder,
"You'll have to find out yourself."
And with that, he strode away, leaving me standing there like a lost puppy.
"Come on! Tell me now! I wanna know, why you left me and Jake...." I whispered desperately, clutching my chest, tears starting to prick my eyes but stubbornly refusing to fall.
''Please....''
My legs felt like jelly as I finally made it to the café Ethan had mentioned.
He was already sitting there, perfectly composed—probably daydreaming about being a grumpy old man someday.
When I plopped down across from him, he raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.
"really?" he whispered.
"You're late, Missy, what took you so long?" he said, giving me a look that said he was actually unimpressed but secretly worried.
I sighed, staring at the table.
My voice was small and exhausted. "What do you wanna talk about?"
Ethan tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, then he said,
"Hey, you came late and now you're sulking? What's wrong with you? Did the universe finally decide to pick on you too?" His tone was grumpy but laced with concern.
And that was it.
The dam broke.
Tears welled up—little sobs, not loud, just enough to make my chest ache.
Ethan blinked, surprised, and looked around like he wasn't sure if he should call the police or hand me a tissue.
"Ayana... what happened? are you cold?'' he said, standing up.
He towered over me, arms crossed, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else—like a grumpy old cat forced into a cuddle.
''What's wrong with you? should I call Jake?''
Without thinking, I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight.
Ethan blinked, shocked, but he didn't pull away.
He just stood still.
And let me have the moment.
"Whoa, okay! Easy with the bear attack, Ayana," he muttered grumpily but with a hint of a smile.
"What's got you crying?"
"I... I don't know who to believe now anymore, Ethan, I don't want to give anymore chances, but I at the same time I want to."
I mumbled into his chest, trembling like a leaf.
He eased me back, giving me that classic 'I'm-grumpy-but-I-care' look, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, kid—" he started, voice grumpy but kind "— Everyone deserves a second chance the truth's like that weird leftover food in the fridge—you gotta find it before it gets moldy." He paused, then added,
"And I swear, I'm not that moldy, but I'm still lazy about it."
I managed a faint smile, tears still threatening to spill. "Thank you, Ethan."
He rolled his eyes seriously, but his lips twitched in a small smirk.
"Yeah, yeah. 'Thank you,' and now stop sobbing like you've seen a ghost. Let's sit down and get this over with."
''Unless you want me to change partners''
''Not a chance.''
We settled into our seats again.
I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit better—maybe his grumpy but kind attitude was exactly what I needed.
But still Mr. Ronson was still on my mind....