She’s gone.
I missed her last moments.
***
The Closed sign stares back at me from the cafe door.
Locked.
Not a problem.
I rap my knuckles against the glass. Once. Twice.
Inside, Lila stiffens.
She’s behind the counter, shoulders tense, wiping down trays like they personally offended her. Like she didn’t just hear me.
She did.
I knock again, slower this time. More deliberate.
Her head snaps up, and the second her eyes meet mine, something flickers.
Annoyance. Frustration. Maybe something else.
Good. I’d rather have her pissed than indifferent.
She exhales sharply, shaking her head like she’s already regretting whatever choice she’s about to make. Then she moves to the door, flipping the lock with quick, sharp motionsbefore yanking it open just enough to glare at me.
“What part of closed do you not understand?”
I step forward, careful, gentler, but close enough that she has to meet my eyes.
“The part where you think I’d just walk away.”
Her fingers tighten around the door, like she’s bracing herself. Like she’s one second from shutting me out completely.
“I don’t have time for this.” Her voice is clipped, impatient. But beneath it? There’s something else. Something frayed.
I keep my voice steady. “Then make time.”
She exhales sharply, frustration flickering across her face. “Ben—”
“I just need you to listen.” My throat tightens, but I don’t move back. “I won’t stay if you don’t want me to. But I’m not leaving without saying what I came here to say.”
Her jaw clenches. She looks past me, toward the empty street, weighing her options. Calculating.
She doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want me here.
But she also doesn’t tell me to go, and that’s enough.
With a sharp breath, she steps back, pushing the door open just enough to let me through. “Five minutes.”
I step inside.
The lock clicks.
Not a win.
