April 11, 2026.
I arrived at the café ten minutes early.
Our booth was empty.
I ordered nothing. Sat with my hands wrapped around a water glass, staring at the door.
Mia walked in at 11:02.
She looked thinner. Tired eyes. Hair in a messy bun.
She saw me.
Paused.
Then came over.
Slid into the opposite seat.
No hug.
“Hi,” she said.
Quiet.
“Hi.”
Silence.
The waiter came. She ordered a latte.
I waited.
She stirred sugar in slow circles.
Finally looked up.
“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say.”
I nodded.
She exhaled.
“I’m angry.”
I swallowed.
“Hurt. Confused. Disgusted, sometimes.”
Each word landed like a stone.
“But mostly… sad.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I miss you,” she said. Voice cracking. “Both of you. And I hate that I miss you.”
I reached for her hand.
