You don't get to say no
1038 Words
🖤chapter Three: You Don’t Get to Say No
The café felt smaller that night.
Haven noticed it the moment she stepped in, like the walls had moved closer while she was gone. The air was thicker, harder to breathe, as if something unseen had settled into the space and refused to leave.
Or maybe… it wasn’t the café.
Maybe it was her.
She tied her apron with slightly unsteady hands, trying to ignore the restless feeling sitting low in her chest.
He didn’t come yesterday.
The thought shouldn’t have lingered.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
But it did.
And she didn’t like that.
The night moved slowly. Too slowly. Every time the door chimed, her head lifted before she could stop herself—only to feel a flicker of something she refused to name when it wasn’t him.
Annoyance.
That’s all it was.
It had to be.
By the time the café began to empty, Haven told herself he wasn’t coming back.
That this was over.
That whatever strange moment had existed between them had ended the second he walked out that door.
Good.
That’s how it should be.
The bell chimed.
Her heart betrayed her.
She looked up.
And there he was.
Damien.
Like he had stepped out of her thoughts and into reality without permission.
Haven’s stomach tightened.
This time, he didn’t pause at the door.
He didn’t observe.
He walked straight toward her.
Faster than before.
Purpose in every step.
Something in her chest shifted.
“Coffee?” she asked quickly, the word coming out before she could stop it.
A weak attempt at normal.
At control.
He didn’t answer.
He stopped on the other side of the counter, close enough that she could feel the weight of his presence without him touching her.
“You’ve been expecting me.”
Her breath caught.
“I haven’t.”
A lie.
Again.
His gaze didn’t waver.
“You looked at the door every time it opened.”
Heat rushed to her face. “That’s my job.”
“No,” he said quietly.
“It’s not.”
Silence fell between them.
But it wasn’t empty.
It was thick. Heavy. Charged with something neither of them said out loud.
Haven forced herself to move, turning slightly to reach for a cup—anything to break the tension building between them.
But before she could—
His hand caught her wrist.
Not rough.
Not gentle.
Just firm enough to stop her.
Her breath hitched.
The world seemed to narrow to that single point of contact.
“Don’t,” he said.
The word was low.
Controlled.
Her pulse jumped. “Let go.”
She meant it to sound strong.
It didn’t.
His thumb shifted slightly against her skin—not a caress, not quite—but enough to make her aware of every nerve beneath it.
“You keep trying to pretend this is normal,” he murmured.
“It is,” she shot back, though her voice was thinner now. “You’re just a customer—”
“I’m not.”
The interruption was immediate.
Certain.
Her heart raced.
“Then what are you?” she demanded.
A dangerous question.
One she shouldn’t have asked.
His grip didn’t tighten.
But it didn’t loosen either.
“Someone who doesn’t get told no.”
A chill slid down her spine.
“You don’t get to decide that,” she said, though the words lacked the strength she wanted them to carry.
His gaze darkened slightly.
Not anger.
Something deeper.
Something more certain.
“I already have.”
The air between them shifted.
Something unspoken settled in.
Ownership.
Control.
Haven pulled her wrist back.
This time, he let her.
But the absence of his touch didn’t feel like relief.
It felt like something had just started.
“You need to leave,” she said, stepping back, putting space between them.
Distance.
Safety.
“I’m working.”
He didn’t move.
“I know.”
Her brows pulled together. “Then go.”
A pause.
Then, slowly:
“No.”
The word landed like a weight.
Heavy.
Final.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. “You can’t just stay here—”
“I can stay wherever I want.”
His tone wasn’t loud.
But it didn’t need to be.
It carried authority.
The kind that didn’t come from words alone.
Haven shook her head, trying to ground herself, trying to push back against the strange pull she didn’t understand.
“You don’t scare me.”
The lie was weaker this time.
He stepped closer.
Closing the space she had created.
“You’re shaking.”
Her breath caught.
She hadn’t even noticed.
“I’m not,” she whispered.
His gaze dropped briefly—to her hands, to the slight tremor she couldn’t control—before returning to her face.
“Lying doesn’t suit you.”
Something in her snapped.
Frustration. Fear. Something else.
“Why me?” she demanded.
The question came out sharper than she expected.
More desperate.
His expression shifted.
Just slightly.
But enough.
“Because you didn’t look away,” he said.
Her chest tightened.
“You should have.”
The words were softer now.
Almost… warning.
Before she could respond, a loud voice cut through the tension.
“Haven! You closing soon?”
She flinched, turning toward the sound.
Distraction.
Relief.
When she looked back—
He was already moving away.
Just like that.
Like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn’t just turned her entire world sideways.
He stopped at the door, his hand resting briefly on the handle.
For a moment, she thought he would leave without another word.
But then—
“You’re going to stop pretending soon.”
His voice carried across the room.
Low.
Certain.
Final.
“Because I’m not.”
The door opened.
Closed.
And he was gone.
Again.
Haven stood there, her heart racing, her thoughts tangled.
Her wrist still tingled where he had touched her.
And no matter how hard she tried to ignore it…
She knew one thing.
This wasn’t just a coincidence anymore.
It wasn’t just a strange encounter.
It was something else.
Something she couldn’t control.
Something that was slowly pulling her in—
Whether she wanted it or not.
- Writer
