A bell chimed softly.
Her head lifted instantly.
Our eyes met.
Her smile was small. Real. Unguarded.
“I miss you,” Dominic said quietly.
The longing hit me from both sides at once — his voice in my ear, her presence in front of me, the smell of coffee and citrus and something fragile between all of us.
“I miss you too,” I said, and I meant it. I really did miss him. “Tell me about your day?”
I walked toward her table while Dominic talked about court, about his week, about nothing important and everythingmeaningful. I sat down across from her, mouthed sorry, mouthed hi, mouthed give me one second.
She nodded, smiling like this was already enough.
Dominic asked, softly, “Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?”
I watched her wrap her hands around her cup. Watched the steam fog her glasses. Watched the way she looked at me like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. I really didn’t have a better answer—especially not after today.
Dominic was quiet again. Not hurt. Not angry.
Just listening.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.
“Tell me about your day, Flash. Do anything fun?”
We talked for four minutes and thirty-two seconds. About logistics. About school. About nothing. About everything except the truth.
When Dominic said, “I should go,” my chest felt tight in a way that wasn’t dramatic — just steady pressure. “Call me later?” he asked.
“I will,” I promised and this time, I really did mean it.
The call ended and the café felt louder without him.
Across from me, my nameless girl tilted her head. “That washim?”
I nodded, not even asking her to clarify who. Maybe she’d seen me with Dominic when he’d been here. Maybe I’d mentioned him when she’d been around. Either way, it had beenhim.
She didn’t look jealous or disappointed. That was another relief. No, she just looked… curious.
“You kept your promise,” she said lightly.
I laughed, a little breathless. “Barely.”
She pushed her coffee toward me. “Sit. Drink something warm. You look like you’re vibrating.”
Did I? I’d perched on the chair but I was still gripping my phone and my camera bag was still over my shoulder. I took a beat to set both down and shrug out of my jacket.
Then I wrapped my hands around the cup. The warmth went straight into my palms. Into my chest.
Into the part of me that kept trying to believe I could hold everything without dropping anything.
