The Silence Between Us
925 Words
Mia told herself she wouldn’t think about Ethan.
But that was like telling the tide not to rise.
The cafe had settled into its evening lull, the once-bustling space now quiet except for the occasional scrape of a chair or the low hum of conversation. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla still clung to the air, mingling with the rich aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. She wiped down the counter for the third time, more for distraction than necessity, but the knot in her stomach refused to loosen.
Lena shot her a knowing look from where she was refilling the pastry display. “You’re gonna rub a hole in that counter.”
Mia exhaled sharply, tossing the rag aside. “I’m fine.”
“Mmhmm.” Lena leaned a hip against the counter, arms crossed. “So, are we gonna pretend like a certain someone didn’t waltz back into town and mess with your head?”
Mia’s jaw tightened. “He didn’t mess with my head.”
Lena arched a brow.
Mia sighed, pressing her palms against the smooth surface of the counter. “It’s just… seeing him again was unexpected.”
“And?”
“And nothing.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders. “I’ve moved on. He’s the past.”
Lena didn’t look convinced, but before she could push further, the bell above the door jingled.
Mia glanced up, and her pulse faltered.
Ethan.
He stepped inside, his gaze finding hers instantly. The cafe lights cast a soft glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the way his eyes—still impossibly familiar—searched hers for something unspoken. He looked like someone who had walked back into a dream he wasn’t ready to wake up from.
Lena muttered, “Well, speak of the devil,” before slipping away, conveniently finding something to do in the back.
Mia forced herself to remain still, to not fidget under his gaze. “Didn’t take you for a coffee addict,” she said coolly.
Ethan hesitated, then walked toward the counter. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”
Her stomach twisted, but she kept her expression neutral. “What do you want, Ethan?”
He exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. “Can we talk?”
“We are talking.”
He gave her a look—one that held too much history, too much weight. “You know what I mean.”
Mia clenched her jaw. She should tell him no. Tell him she didn’t care. But deep down, she knew that was a lie.
Before she could answer, Lena reappeared, conveniently carrying a tray of freshly baked croissants. “You guys should probably take this outside. Less chance of breaking something.”
Ethan glanced at Mia, waiting.
She inhaled deeply, then gave a tight nod. “Fine. Five minutes.”
Lena winked at Ethan. “Better make it count.”
Mia shot her a glare before leading the way out the side door, stepping onto the quiet street. The sky was bruised with the remnants of sunset, casting long shadows across the pavement. A cool breeze whispered through the trees, rustling the leaves in a way that made everything feel heavier, more significant.
Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I wasn’t sure you’d agree.”
“Neither was I,” she admitted, crossing her arms. “So talk.”
He hesitated, then said, “I never wanted to leave like that.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “And yet, you did.”
“Mia—”
“No.” She held up a hand. “You don’t get to show up after all these years and rewrite history. You left. You didn’t look back. You made your choice.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’ve regretted it every day since.”
She swallowed hard, hating how easily his words slipped under her defenses. “Regret doesn’t change anything.”
“I know that too.” He took a step closer. “But I also know I should’ve fought for you. I should’ve stayed.”
Her heart clenched. “Then why didn’t you?”
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
Ethan exhaled. “I was scared.”
Mia blinked. That wasn’t the answer she’d expected.
He ran a hand down his face, frustration evident. “I thought I had to prove something—to myself, to the world. I thought chasing success would make everything fall into place.” His gaze softened. “But none of it mattered without you.”
Her breath hitched.
Ethan took another step, close enough that she could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “I know I can’t undo the past, but I want to make things right. If you’ll let me.”
Mia’s chest tightened.
For years, she’d imagined this moment—what she’d say if he ever came back, how she’d make him feel the hurt she’d carried. But now that he was standing in front of her, raw and regretful, she realized the truth.
She wasn’t ready.
“I can’t do this, Ethan.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Pain flickered across his face, but he nodded. “I get it.”
She turned away, gripping the cool metal of the door handle.
But before she stepped inside, she heard him say, “I’m not giving up on you, Mia.”
Her fingers tightened.
She didn’t look back.
But her heart was already betraying her.
- Writer
