The Quiet Between Us
706 Words
Ava started showing up early.
She told herself it was just to avoid the morning rush. But she liked the quiet before the doors opened. The hum of the machines warming up. The soft clink of mugs being set in place.
And Cole.
He was always there before her. Always one step ahead. Like he needed the quiet too.
“Want the same?” he asked one morning without looking up.
“Do I always want the same?” she asked.
He handed her a mug. “You’ve ordered it four times in a row.”
“Maybe I’m predictable.”
“You’re not.”
That stuck with her.
She found herself thinking about it while restocking cups. While wiping down tables. While watching him move through the café like he belonged in it.
She didn’t want to admit it, but something about him made her feel steady. Not happy. Not safe. But steady.
That was new.
They fell into rhythm. Not friends. Not strangers. Something in between.
But the past didn’t stay quiet.
One afternoon, a customer came in and paused at the door. Ava froze.
It was Jamie’s cousin.
The cousin stared, recognition dawning.
“I thought you left town.”
Ava’s stomach tightened.
“I did,” she said. “I came back.”
“For Cole?” the girl asked, voice sharp.
Ava didn’t answer.
The cousin scoffed. “You know he was always too good for Jamie. Everyone saw it.”
Ava didn’t respond. Just turned and walked into the back.
She stayed there until her hands stopped shaking.
Cole came in ten minutes later. Set a glass of water on the counter near her.
“I didn’t invite her.”
“I know.”
“She’s loud.”
Ava let out a weak laugh. “She always was.”
He leaned against the counter. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
She looked at him. “Does it get easier? Being in the same town as your past?”
Cole thought about it.
“No. But you stop reacting to it. You stop giving it power.”
That made her pause.
He didn’t say it with anger. He said it like someone who had lived it. Someone who had practiced silence until it became strength.
That night, Ava couldn’t sleep.
She went for a walk. Down the side streets. Past old houses. Toward the edge of town where the road met the beach.
The moonlight hit the water in soft silver lines.
She stood there, arms crossed, hoodie zipped to her throat, heart still unsettled.
She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her until he spoke.
“I figured I’d find you here.”
Cole.
She turned, caught off guard.
“You followed me?”
“You didn’t come back to close. I got worried.”
“I’m fine.”
He nodded. “You always say that.”
She looked out at the water again.
“I don’t know who I am here anymore.”
Cole stepped beside her.
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe you get to figure it out again. Without him.”
She didn’t reply. Just let the wind hit her face.
“Do you remember the pier?” he asked.
Ava smiled a little. “You mean when you pushed me off the edge?”
“You jumped.”
“You dared me.”
“You didn’t say no.”
They both laughed.
The kind of laugh that comes after too many days without one.
He looked at her then. Direct. Quiet.
“I never said anything back then. About what he did. I didn’t want to get in the middle.”
“You already were.”
“I know.”
“I hated you for a while,” she said.
“I probably deserved that.”
She nodded. “Maybe.”
They stood there a while longer.
Then Ava turned to him.
“Thanks for coming.”
Cole shrugged. “You didn’t ask. But I wanted to.”
That was all she needed to hear.
She didn’t cry.
She didn’t run.
She just stood still.
And for the first time in months, she felt it.
Something loosening.
Something beginning.
- Writer
