Chapter Eight Almost Something
614 Words
Liam and Maya ended up at the bookstore café, just like the first night.
Same table near the window. Same warm light. Same quiet buzz of jazz humming low in the background. The world outside hadn’t changed — but something between them had.
They sat cross-legged in the corner booth, two steaming cups between them, and the half-eaten muffins from earlier growing cold on a napkin.
Maya laughed mid-sip. “I can’t believe you still remember that I wanted to be a marine biologist when I was twelve.”
Liam smirked. “You told me you used to name your goldfish after constellations. That’s not something a guy forgets.”
She grinned, shaking her head. “I was so weird.”
“You were brilliant.”
Her eyes flicked up to his, the quiet compliment hanging between them like a string of light.
The tension wasn’t sharp. It was gentle. Familiar. Like remembering a song you didn’t know you’d missed.
“I’ve missed this,” Maya said softly.
“Me too.”
Liam leaned forward slightly. Not too close. Just enough that she felt the warmth of him again. “I thought I lost this. Us. After that day.”
“You didn’t.”
“I thought you chose him.”
Maya looked down at her hands, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t choose anyone.”
“Maybe not yet.”
They sat in silence for a long, long moment.
Liam’s eyes searched hers, and for the first time since they’d reconnected, it felt like something could happen — something just on the edge of brave.
A breath passed between them.
Almost something.
Almost.
And then—
“Maya.”
The voice cut through the softness like the scrape of metal against silk.
She turned.
Dante.
Standing by the entrance, coat open, eyes unreadable. He wasn’t supposed to be there. Not in this space. Not in their space.
Liam sat back instinctively.
Dante’s gaze didn’t move. “You didn’t answer my message.”
“I didn’t check my phone,” Maya said, rising slowly.
“I wanted to talk to you about the pitch ideas. I thought we were meeting tonight.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You never confirmed.”
Dante stepped closer, the sharp scent of cologne and night air following him. His presence turned the warmth in the café cold.
Liam stood now too, quietly.
“She’s busy,” he said, tone calm but clear.
Dante looked at him for the first time — the businessman sizing up the soft boy.
“And you are?”
Liam smiled — politely, almost sadly. “Just a friend.”
Maya stepped between them instinctively, one hand brushing Liam’s arm.
“I’ll call you,” she said to Dante. “Later.”
Dante’s jaw flexed. He nodded once — clipped — then turned and walked out, the café door hissing shut behind him.
The silence that followed was loud.
Maya turned to Liam. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I didn’t know he’d show up.”
“I know.”
Liam reached for his coat. His voice was quiet again, but this time there was distance in it. “You should probably go. Clear the air with him.”
Maya frowned. “Liam—”
“I meant what I said earlier. I’m your friend.”
He looked into her eyes.
“But that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt.”
And with that, he left — not angry, not cold, just… quiet.
Maya stood in the café alone, caught between two different worlds.
And for the first time, she wondered if she could survive choosing either.
- Writer
