Lines You Don’t Cross
800 Words
Courtney told herself she didn't care. She repeated it in her head while wiping down the counter, while arranging cups, while pretending the sound of the café door didn't matter anymore.
She didn't care who Bianca was. She didn't care why Renz looked different when she showed up and she definitely didn't care if he came back today.
The bell chimed. Her hand paused mid-wipe.
"Relax," Marco muttered from the corner, not even looking up. "If you scrub that counter any harder, it's going to file a complaint."
"I'm not—" Courtney stopped herself. The footsteps were familiar now. Steady. Controlled. Predictable. Renz.
"Black coffee?" she called out before he could even reach the counter.
There was a slight pause. Then, "No."
She turned, raising an eyebrow. "Still experimenting?"
"Caramel latte."
Courtney smirked despite herself. "Wow. You're evolving."
"I'm adapting."
"That's just a colder way of saying the same thing."
She prepared his drink in silence this time, but the air between them wasn't as easy as before. Something lingered—something left behind by Bianca's presence.
When she handed him the cup, she didn't pull away immediately neither did he.
"You didn't call her," Courtney said before she could stop herself.
Renz's gaze sharpened. "You assume a lot."
"You didn't deny it." A beat of silence then—"I haven't decided yet."
Courtney let go of the cup, stepping back. "You don't sound like someone who's undecided."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," she said, crossing her arms, "you look like someone who already knows the answer but doesn't want to deal with it."
Renz studied her. "You do that a lot," he said.
"Do what?"
"Act like you understand people you just met."
Courtney let out a short laugh. "And you act like no one ever could."
"That's because they usually don't." There it was again—that wall. Cold. Solid. Untouchable.
Courtney tilted her head. "Then why do you keep coming back here?"
The question hung between them. Renz didn't answer immediately and for a moment—just a moment—he looked… unsure. Before he could respond, the café door opened again. This time, slower. Deliberate. Bianca.
Courtney's stomach tightened, though she refused to show it.
Bianca walked in like she belonged anywhere she stepped, her eyes immediately finding Renz.
"Still here," she said, a small smile forming.
"I haven't left."
"I can see that." Her gaze shifted to the cup in his hand, then briefly to Courtney. There was no smile this time only quiet observation.
"I thought about what you said," Bianca continued, stepping closer. "About us."
Courtney busied herself with the espresso machine, even though she wasn't making anything. She wasn't listening. She absolutely was.
"There's nothing to think about," Renz replied calmly.
Bianca's expression flickered. "Renz—"
"We ended for a reason."
"And people change."
"They don't change that much." The words were firm. Final but not harsh.
Bianca inhaled slowly, regaining her composure. "So that's it?"
Renz didn't hesitate this time. "Yes."
Silence.
Then, Bianca laughed softly, though there was no humor in it. "You used to be better at pretending you didn't feel anything."
Courtney's hands stilled. Used to.
Bianca's eyes shifted again, landing on Courtney and this time, the message was clear. This is because of you.
Courtney straightened. "No," she said suddenly.
Both of them looked at her. She hadn't meant to speak but she did. "This isn't because of me."
Bianca raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say it was."
"You didn't have to."
A tense pause filled the space. Courtney stepped forward, her voice steady now. "Whatever you two had—it's yours. Not mine."
Renz watched her closely.
Bianca tilted her head, studying Courtney like she was something to figure out.
"Interesting," Bianca murmured. Then she looked at Renz one last time. "You're making a mistake."
Renz didn't respond and that was answer enough.
Bianca nodded once—sharp, controlled then she left again but this time, the silence she left behind was heavier than before.
Courtney exhaled slowly, turning away.
"You didn't have to do that," Renz said.
"I know."
"Then why did you?"
She shrugged lightly, though her chest felt tight. "I don't like being blamed for things I didn't do."
Renz stepped closer not too close but closer than before. "And if you did?" he asked quietly.
Courtney met his gaze. "Then I'd own it."
Something shifted in his expression. Something softer. Dangerous.
"Good to know," he said.
Courtney forced a small smile. "Don't get used to it."
Renz took another sip of his drink, his eyes still on her. "I already am."
And for the first time, Courtney felt it clearly—
This wasn't just coffee anymore. They were crossing lines and neither of them seemed willing to step back.
- Writer
