The café was quieter than Nora expected.
Late afternoon sunlight shine through the tall windows, warming the wooden tables and softening the edges of everything it touched. It felt like one of those places people came to think, not talk. That alone made her uneasy.
Ethan pulled out a chair for her without thinking.
She noticed.
She always noticed things like that.
Thank you, she said, sitting.
He took the seat across from her, resting his hands loosely on the table. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The menu sat unopened between them, like an excuse neither wanted to use.
So, Ethan said at last, clearing his throat, how long are you in town?
Nora traced the rim of her glass with her finger. Just a week.
A week, he repeated, nodding slowly. Then you're leaving again.
Yes,she said lifting her head up
The word landed heavier than she expected.
He didn't argue. Didn't ask where. Just accepted it the way people do when they've learned not to push too hard.
That's…good, he said. I mean, not good. Just...good to know.
She almost smiled.
A server came by, and they ordered without really looking. Coffee for him. Tea for her. Some habits, it seemed, refused to die.
When the server walked away, Ethan leaned back slightly. I didn't know whether I should ask you to come here or not.
Why did you? Nora asked.
He hesitated. That small pause,the one she remembered so well made her chest tighten.
Because, he said slowly, the last time we saw each other, we didn't really talk.
Nora looked down.
That was one way to describe it.
We said what we needed to say, she replied, though her voice lacked conviction.
Ethan shook his head gently. I don't think we did.
Silence settled again, thicker this time.
Outside, a car passed. Someone laughed. Life moved on, indifferent to the tension curling between them.
I used to replay that day in my head, he continued, eyes fixed on the table. Not all the time. Just…when things got quiet.
Her fingers curled around her cup.
Me too, she admitted.
He looked up then, surprised. Really?
Yes. She met his gaze. I wondered if I should've stayed longer. If I should've said more.
Ethan let out a breath that sounded like relief mixed with regret. I wondered why you left without giving me a chance to explain.
Her heart skipped.
Explain what? she asked.
He frowned slightly, confusion flickering across his face. That I wasn't pulling away. That I just didn't know how to say what I was feeling yet.
Nora stared at him.
That's not how it felt, she said quietly.
I know, he replied immediately. I see that now.
The server returned with their drinks, setting them down gently, unaware she had just placed a fragile barrier between two people trying not to break.
They both thanked her. Then the truth lingered again.
I thought you were choosing your work over us, Nora said after a moment. Every time I needed clarity, you said 'soon.' After a while, it felt like a way of saying 'never.'
Ethan winced. I wasn't choosing work. I was scared of promising something I didn't know how to give properly.
She laughed softly, without humor. We were scared of opposite things.
He smiled faintly. That sounds like us.
For a second, it almost felt easy. Like they could laugh their way through the past and leave it lighter than they found it.
Almost.
You never called, Ethan said gently.
You never stopped me, she replied just as softly.
Their eyes locked.
There it was....,the truth they had circled for years without touching.
I thought you needed space, he said.
I thought you didn't care enough to fight, she said.
Neither accusation sounded angry. Just tired. Honest.
Ethan leaned forward slightly. I cared, he said, voice low and steady. More than I knew how to show.
Nora swallowed...Then why does it still feel unfinished?
He didn't answer right away.
Outside, the sun began to dip lower, casting long shadows across the floor.
Maybe, Ethan said finally, because we're talking now. And we never really did before.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
A reminder. Flight details pending.
Reality tapping her on the shoulder.
She picked it up, then set it back down, resisting the urge to create distance again.
I don't know what this is, she said honestly. Or what it's supposed to lead to.
Ethan nodded. Neither do I.
A pause.
But, he added, looking at her carefully, i don't want us to pretend this doesn't matter.
Nora felt something shift inside her,not hope exactly, but possibility. Fragile. Dangerous.
I'm only here for a week, she reminded him.
I know,he replied
And a lot can go wrong in a week.
He smiled,not confidently, but sincerely. A lot can go right too.
She studied his face,the familiar lines, the calm presence, the man she once trusted enough to imagine a future with.
I don't want promises, she said.
Neither do I, he replied,Just honesty.
Nora nodded slowly.
Outside, the sky darkened, but inside the café, something quietly began to glow.
They didn't reach for each other.
They didn't make declarations.
They just sat there, facing the past without running from it.
And for now, that was enough.