She does that a couple more times before she stops.
She checks her phone once more.
Then she doesn’t look at the door again.
That’s when it hits: She wanted me to come.
I wish I were the kind of man who didn’t need that spelled out in body language and missed expectationspieced together through a café window while she’s laughing with another guy.
Evidently, I am not.
Aaron says something that makes her laugh again. He looks pleased with himself.
I don’t move. Don’t interrupt, even though every instinct in my body tells me to.
If I step inside and reclaim the space like every instinct in my body demands—which is an entirely unreasonable urge for a grown man standing across the street pretending he’s not emotionally compromised—I’ll confirm everything she already knows.
That I was watching.
That I care.
That the distance wasn’t indifferent.
It was restraint.
And my restraint is thinner than it’s ever been.
When she stands, I straighten without meaning to. My body reacts before my brain catches up.
She steps outside and pauses on the sidewalk. For half a second, I think she might look around, but she doesn’t.
I watch her leave. She walks with confidence, her pace unhurried.
She adjusts her bag on her shoulder and walks toward the waiting car like she never doubted how this would go. Like she didn’t lose anything by showing up.
I stay where I am until the car pulls away. Until the space she occupies is undeniably empty.
Only then do I exhale.
I told myself I wanted boundaries. Distance. Control.
What I didn’t anticipate was how much it would cost me to keep them.
I turn away from the café and start walking back to my office.
And the entire walk back, my thoughts haunt me.
I didn’t go inside.
But Ivy still won.
Even if she doesn’t know it.
25
SEBASTIAN
I’m going insane.
