A Fresh Start
1582 Words
TESSA
“I ruined my life for you. My career. My dreams. Not once did you come to see me in prison. Now you're marrying my best friend!”
"Did you think Wyatt could wait for someone like you? He is a famous architect. He has a reputation." Chloe clutched his arm, her wedding gown was a taunt to the pain I had endured for five years.
“That rival of yours was going to kill you, Wyatt…I-I hit him to save your life. It was self-defense." A sob ripped from my throat.
"It was your choice," he said coldly. "Nobody forced you to play the martyr.”
My heart shattered into a million pieces, a pain sharper than a blade. “Is that why you were busy warming your bed with my best friend?”
“Mind your words!” He narrowed his eyes.
“Honey, please calm down. The guests and media are here,” Chloe whispered, glancing at the other side of the wedding venue. Then, her malice gaze met mine. “We naturally came closer. Don't blame us.”
“What about our relationship, Wyatt? Those years meant nothing!?”
“I’ve moved on.”
“M-Maybe it was always one-sided.” My voice was shaking. “Still, you should've come to the trial and verified the truth...”
“Enough, Tessa!” He shoved his fingers into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a bundle of cash. He forcibly placed it on my palm. "Take this and leave. Just don't come back here.”
The man who once promised me the world…was treating me like a beggar. I looked at the money, then at both of them. I didn't think twice. I threw that bundle at their faces.
“Keep your money to yourself. I'm afraid it's as rotten as you two.” Chloe parted her lips to say something, I turned around and walked away.
I went to my rented apartment first to take my things from the landlord. Reaching the bus stop, I switched on my phone, which I had just gotten back an hour ago. A hundred texts and voice messages flooded my screen. They were all from one person…Grandpa.
His last text was six months ago. {Don't be angry with Grandpa. I miss you, Tessa.}
Tears finally rolled down my eyes. I cut ties with him before going to jail. I didn't have the guts to tell him the truth. I just wanted to go back, apologize to him, and cry in his arms.
The bus ride from Seattle to my hometown was a blur of rain and dark highways.
When I stepped off the bus in the mist-covered town of Oakhaven, a smile glinted on my lips. The town was still the same.
I had barely cleared the curb when the air exploded into a roar of high-octane engines.
Seven bikes thundered past me, so close the heat from their exhausts scorched my skin through my jeans. The wind of their passage nearly knocked me off my feet.
Can't you see where you are going!?” I shouted, louder over the hum of bikes.
They looked like a pack of predators, lethal, coordinated, and rule-breakers.
Unexpectedly, the tail rider slowed. He was draped in scuffed black leather that hugged shoulders wide enough to block out the sun. His tinted visor was a dark mirror, hiding his eyes, but I could feel his gaze raking over me.
The idle rumble of his bike echoed right through the road and up into my bones.
He tilted his head, a cocky acknowledgment of the chaos he’d just caused. He didn't apologize, bikers like him never do. Instead, he lifted the visor of the helmet, revealing a pair of striking blue eyes that felt too similar.
He just revved the engine once, dropped the visor, before tearing off to join the rest of the pack. I stood there in the silence, my scent filled with gasoline and leather.
Inhaling a breath, I walked toward our house, but as I passed the grocery store, Mrs. Gable stood before me. Our neighbour. A florist.
“Tessa? You finally came back.” Her voice was shaky. “Your grandpa waited a long time. Why didn't you answer his calls or texts?”
“I-I…We had an argument.” I lied.
“Oh my! Arguments happen in every house. But you shouldn't have cut ties with me. Victor raised you all by himself.”
“I was wrong. I'll Apologize to him. Kneel in front of him. I'll do everything.”
She sighed. "Victor passed away six months ago. He had a brain stroke.”
My heart stopped. "W-What?"
"The town chipped in for the funeral.”
I ran to the cemetery. I collapsed to my knees in front of his grave, crying, and begging for forgiveness, until my eyes were red and swollen. I lost my parents when I was ten. Now grandpa left me, too. I didn't realize it was midnight. Mrs. Gable took me to our house. He left the key with her.
When I came back to my senses, able to speak, Mrs. Gable cooked for me. I quietly sat on the edge of the bed.
“So you're back here for good? What about your job in the city?”
“The city life exhausted me too much.”
“Since you're back, you should take over your grandpa's cafe.”
I looked up at her.
“Your grandpa told me to inform you that if you ever come back, he has left the cafe under your name. You need to contact Mr. Henderson, the town’s lawyer.”
Moonlight Café, my grandpa's treasure. I used to help him when I was in school. He taught me a thousand desserts and coffee tastes. Even on his deathbed, he left an option for my future.
The whole night, I cried in my room, remembering every part of our memories. Because of my foolishness, I couldn't even get to say goodbye to him.
After three weeks of sleepless nights, Mr. Henderson came to my grandpa's house. We finalized the paperwork. He even told me about the secret savings of my grandma which he had left for me. His entire life's savings.
I wanted to run his cafe again. Make him proud.
Mr. Henderson almost reached the door when he looked back at me. “Oh! I forgot to tell you. The top floor is rented by a group on a long-term lease. I have a copy of the lease. I'll show it to you later.”
“O-Okay…But what group?”
“Well…” His phone started ringing. He answered the call and rushed out in a hurry.
“Mr. Henderson?” I rushed to the door but he was walking at the speed of lightning. “I hope it's a book club or anything peaceful.”
Later at night, I visited the cafe for a look. In other words, I couldn't sleep.
The café smelled of coffee and dust. Everything was covered in white sheets, the tables, the espresso machine, and the counter. Still, the floor wasn't abandoned. Perhaps, because of the group upstairs.
"A fresh start," I whispered to the empty room. "Just me and the coffee."
Suddenly, the silence was shattered.
A roar began in the distance. It grew louder, a thundering vibration that shook the floor beneath my feet. I was startled as the sound of engines swarmed the front of the cafe.
One by one, seven black bikes pulled up onto the curb, their chrome glinting under the streetlights. The same bikers from earlier. “Why are they here?” I was furious.
These were men in black leather, chains clinking against their jeans as they dismounted. They moved with a synchronized grace.
The front door swung open without a knock. They filed in, one after another, filling my quiet café with the scent of gasoline.
"Excuse me,” I spoke. "Who are you? You can't just come in here. The cafe is closed."
They didn't answer. They just moved aside, forming a path like a dark guard of honor.
Then, the last man entered.
He pulled off his matte-black helmet, shaking out a head of dark, messy hair. The same striking blue eyes. A Twin flame Tattoo crept up his neck, disappearing under his jawline.
I could barely breathe. The way he carried himself, head high, all dangerous confidence and effortless power, made the room feel smaller. His lips curved into a wicked smirk that promised trouble. And that face… devastatingly handsome, clean-shaved with a sharp jawline, achingly familiar, the kind of face a woman never truly forgets. I didn't forget either.
He looked at me, his gaze traveling slowly down my body and back up, his blue eyes burning with a dark, familiar fire. For a moment, I was speechless, scanning his sharp features. Then, I remembered our past.
My worst enemy.
He slowly came closer. “Same golden hair. Same green eyes. Long time no see, glasses," He said, his voice deep, manly, and rough.
The boy who always tried to be better than me, who fought me for every award, every good grade, and every little achievement. He was supposed to be anything…But a biker, hanging out with troublemakers???
"Kyle Maxwell," I whispered.
“Tessa Vance…” He closed the distance between us to inches, while his group watched in silence. “Missed me too much?”
- Writer
