Almost Something
897 Words
Renz Cortez stayed not in the way most people did—not comfortably, not effortlessly but deliberately, carefully like every second he remained inside the café was a decision he had to keep making over and over again and somehow… he did.
Courtney noticed it in the smallest things.
The way he didn't check his watch as often.
The way he sat down now instead of standing by the counter like he was ready to leave at any moment.
The way silence between them had softened—no longer tense, but not entirely easy either.
Something in between. Something… new.
"You're staring again," Courtney said, wiping a cup as she leaned against the counter.
"I'm observing."
She rolled her eyes. "You use that word too much."
"It's accurate."
"It's annoying."
Renz almost smiled, almost. Courtney noticed. Of course she did and for a second, it threw her off more than anything else.
"You're different today," she said.
Renz tilted his head slightly. "Explain.
"You're not… tense."
"I wasn't aware I was before."
"You were," she said. "All sharp edges and exit strategies."
"And now?"
Courtney studied him for a moment then shrugged lightly. "Now you look like you're trying not to be."
That was closer to the truth than he expected.
Renz leaned back slightly in his seat, his coffee untouched for once—not because he forgot, but because he wasn't in a rush.
"I said I'd stay," he replied simply.
Courtney nodded. "You did." A small pause followed then, "And you are," she added.
The words were quiet but they mattered.
Renz noticed the way her voice softened around them like she didn't fully trust it yet like she wasn't sure how long it would last.
Fair, he didn't either.
Days passed not dramatically, not in big, life-changing moments but in quiet, consistent ones. Renz kept coming back.not always at 9:10 anymore, sometimes earlier, sometimes later but always… returning.
Courtney stopped pretending it didn't matter. She started saving him a seat. Started making his drink without asking. Started noticing when he looked tired.
"You didn't sleep," she said one afternoon, setting his cup in front of him.
"I slept."
"Not enough."
Renz glanced at her. "You're making assumptions again."
"You're making it obvious."
A pause, then, "I had a late meeting," he admitted.
Courtney nodded. "That makes more sense."
Another pause. "Why do you care?" he asked.
The question wasn't sharp hust… honest.
Courtney didn't answer immediately because this was the part she usually avoided. The part where things got real.
"I don't know," she said finally. Renz watched her. "But I do," she added quietly.
That made something shift in his expression not dramatic just enough to be noticed.
That evening, the café was quieter than usual.
Soft music played in the background, the lights were dimmer, warmer. Renz stayed longer than he ever had before not talking much just… there. Courtney moved around him naturally now, like his presence no longer disrupted her space—but blended into it. At some point, she sat across from him not behind the counter, not at a distance, across.
"You're crossing boundaries," he said.
She raised an eyebrow. "So are you."
"I was invited."
"You invited yourself."
"And you let me."
Touché. Courtney smiled faintly then the silence settled again but this time it wasn't complicated, it wasn't fragile, it was… comfortable, dangerously so.
"This feels easy," she said suddenly.
Renz looked at her. "It shouldn't."
"I know."
"Does that bother you?"
Courtney thought about it then shook her head slowly. "No," she admitted. "That's what scares me."
A pause. Renz leaned forward slightly. "Why?"
"Because things that feel easy don't usually last," she said.
The words were soft but heavy with something deeper. Renz didn't respond right away. He understood what she meant more than she probably realized.
"Maybe they don't last because people stop choosing them," he said finally.
Courtney met his gaze. "Are you saying you'd choose this?" she asked.
Renz didn't hesitate this time. "Yes."
Her breath caught—just slightly. "And tomorrow?" she pressed.
A beat. "Yes."
"And the day after that?"
Another pause, longer, more honest. "I don't know," he admitted.
There it was the truth, unpolished, uncertain, real.
Courtney nodded slowly. "I appreciate that more than a lie," she said.
Renz studied her. "You don't ask for guarantees."
"No," she replied. "I just pay attention to patterns."
"And what pattern do you see?"
She looked at him for a long moment. "You're trying," she said.
A quiet statement but it landed deeper than anything else.
Renz leaned back slightly. "That's new for me."
"I noticed." A faint smile touched her lips and for the first time, he didn't look away from it.
Later that night, as the café was closing, Renz stood near the door not rushing, not lingering too long just… there.
Courtney walked up beside him. "You're leaving," she said.
"For now."
She nodded. "Good," she replied softly. "That sounds better."
Renz looked at her and for a moment neither of them moved because this quiet, uncertain, almost-something felt like the beginning of something neither of them knew how to define and maybe that was the point.
"Goodnight, Courtney."
"Goodnight, Renz." He stepped out into the night but this time it didn't feel like an ending. It felt like a pause and for once that was enough.
- Writer
