Unbreak My Heart.

Ghost on Campus The first thing Claire Bennett noticed that morning was that the coffee line at The Grind was longer than usual. The second thing she noticed almost destroyed her. She was scrolling her phone, half-listening to Emma complain about their 9 a.m. professor, when she looked up and the whole world tilted sideways. Daniel Carter was standing by the window. Not a memory nor a dream she'd wake up from with her heart pounding for no reason. Him, real, taller than she remembered, if that was even possible. Same dark hair, same broad shoulders, same stupid scar on his jaw that she used to trace with her thumb back when she thought forever was a promise people actually kept. "Claire?" Emma's voice sounded far away. "Claire, hello? Earth to," "He's here," Claire said. Her voice came out flat like she'd said it a hundred times in her head before it ever reached her mouth. Emma followed her gaze and her whole face changed. "Oh, hell no." Claire's fingers tightened around her cup. Two years. Two years of rebuilding herself brick by brick, of learning how to breathe without checking her phone for a text that was never coming, of convincing herself she was fine — actually fine, not fake-fine and here he was. Standing in her coffee shop, in her campus. Like he had any right to just show back up. He hadn't seen her yet. She had maybe ten seconds to disappear but she didn't move because some stupid, traitorous part of her wanted him to turn around. Wanted to know if his eyes would do that thing they used to do. Soften, just for her like she was the only person worth looking at in a crowded room. He turned around and yeah. His eyes did the thing. "Claire." Her name in his mouth sounded like something breaking and healing at the same time. She felt Emma's hand close around her wrist, a silent are you okay, a silent we can leave right now. Claire didn't answer either question. She just stood there, coffee going cold in her hand, staring at the boy who'd taught her what love felt like and then taught her, twice, what it felt like to lose it. "What are you doing here?" The words came out sharper than she meant. Daniel took a step closer, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets like he didn't trust what they'd do if he let them free. "I am here now. Transferred." He stopped himself, jaw tightening. "I didn't know you'd be at this café. I swear." "Right." Claire's laugh had no humor in it. "Because the universe just loves doing this to me." "Claire," "Don't." One word. It landed like a slammed door. Emma stepped half in front of her, arms crossed, the picture of a best friend ready to go to war. "You've got some nerve," she said. "Two years, Daniel. Two years and you just what, show up at a coffee shop like you didn't wreck her?" Something flickered across his face. Guilt. Real guilt, the kind that didn't know how to apologize for itself. "I know what I did." "Do you?" Claire's voice cracked and she hated it, hated that after everything, after all the nights she'd spent gluing herself back together, he could still find the exact seam that split her open. "Because I spent two years trying to figure out what I did wrong, what I said and what I didn't say. You never told me anything, Daniel. You just left." The café had gone quiet around them, or maybe that was just her, tunnel vision closing in until it was only the two of them and the wreckage between them. "I'm not here to make excuses," Daniel said quietly. "I'm here because I want to explain. If you'll let me." "I won't." It came out before she could stop it, before she could second-guess it, and for one second she watched something in him c***k though just slightly, just enough that she saw the boy underneath the man. The boy who used to hold her hand under lunch tables so no one would see. The boy who used to tell her she was the only person who ever made sense to him. Then he nodded, like he'd expected that answer. Like he deserved it. "Okay," he said. "Then I'll wait until you do." He left first. Claire watched the door swing shut behind him, watched him disappear down the sidewalk with his hands still jammed in his pockets and only then did she let her knees remember how to hold her up properly. Emma exhaled beside her. "Girl. What the hell was that." "I don't know." Claire set her coffee down, hands trembling in a way she hoped Emma wouldn't notice. She noticed. Emma always noticed. "You good?" No. She wasn't good. Her heart was doing that thing again, that stupid traitor thing where two years of careful, deliberate healing cracked right down the middle in under sixty seconds. "I'm fine," Claire lied. Emma didn't push. She just linked her arm through Claire's and steered her toward the door, back into the sunlight, back into a day that was supposed to be normal. But Claire already knew. Normal was over as he was back. And some broken, unguarded part of her which was the part she thought she'd locked away for good was terrified of how badly she still wanted him to stay.