The Things We Don’t Say
721 Words
Courtney didn't use the number. Not at first.
It sat on the counter beside the register like an unanswered question—silent, persistent, impossible to ignore.
Marco noticed it. Lia definitely noticed it.
Even customers started noticing Courtney staring at it when she thought no one was watching.
"You're doing that thing again," Marco said one afternoon.
Courtney didn't look up from wiping the counter. "What thing?"
"The staring at the phone like it owes you money thing."
"It doesn't."
"Then why are you glaring at it?"
"I'm not glaring."
Marco leaned closer. "You are emotionally negotiating with that number."
Courtney tossed the cloth at him. "Go make yourself useful." But even she knew, he wasn't wrong.
Meanwhile, Renz didn't come that morning or the next or the one after that. At first, Courtney told herself it was normal, people got busy. CEOs disappeared into meetings. Cold men stayed cold. It made sense. It should've felt normal but it didn't.
On the fourth day, Lia finally snapped. "You're not okay," she said bluntly.
Courtney sighed. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're aggressively fine. That's different."
Courtney placed a cup on the table a little too hard. "I said I'm fine."
Lia softened slightly. "Then why are you waiting for someone who hasn't shown up?"
That made Courtney pause she didn't answer because the truth was, she didn't know. That evening, the café was quieter than usual. Golden light spilled through the windows, painting everything in warm tones that felt almost too calm. Courtney was closing the register when the bell finally rang.
Her heart reacted before her mind did. She didn't look up immediately. She didn't need to. She already knew.
"Late," she said.
Renz's voice came steady, familiar—but slightly different. "I was away."
Courtney finally looked at him. Same suit. Same face but something was off not in appearance, in distance.
"You didn't say," she replied.
"I didn't think it mattered."
That stung more than she expected. Courtney straightened. "Right."
A pause filled the space between them not awkward, worse but careful. Renz stepped closer to the counter but didn't sit like before, didn't stay like before just stood like he was already halfway out the door.
"I won't be coming as often," he said.
There it was. Courtney blinked. "Oh." Another pause. That was all she gave him just "oh." Because if she said anything else, she wasn't sure what would come out.
Renz studied her expression. "You're not surprised."
"I am," she said quietly. "Just not shocked."
That made him tilt his head slightly. "Explain."
Courtney let out a small breath. "People like you don't stay in places like this."
A flicker barely there. "You think you know people like me," he said.
"No," she replied honestly. "I think I'm starting to."
Silence. This time, heavier.
Renz finally reached into his pocket but instead of placing something on the counter, he hesitated then, "I was right," he said.
Courtney frowned. "About what?"
"This place."
"What about it?"
He looked around the café like he was memorizing it like he might not come back.
"It's inefficient," he said again.
Courtney gave a small, tired smile. "You said that before."
"I know."
"And?"
"And I was wrong." That made her still completely.
Renz met her eyes. "For me," he added quietly, "this place is not inefficient."
Courtney's throat tightened slightly. "Then what is it?"
A pause longer this time then, "Complicated."
Her breath caught because that word sounded too close to something else too close to her.
Renz finally placed something on the counter not a business card, not a receipt but a folded note. "I shouldn't be doing this," he said.
"Then don't," Courtney replied immediately but neither of them moved.
Renz exhaled slowly. "That's the problem."
Courtney looked at him, really looked. "Renz…" she said softly.
He didn't respond just watched her like she was something he was trying very hard not to want then he turned and walked out. No goodbye again but this time it didn't feel like leaving, it felt like resisting.
Courtney stared at the folded note long after the door closed and for the first time, she didn't open it because something inside her whispered, if she did, nothing between them would stay simple again and maybe… it never really was.
- Writer
