Celeste was gone, but the weight of her rejection remained.
Raine tried to push it aside, burying herself in books, in routine, in anything that would make her forget.
But forgetting Celeste was impossible.
Every corner of the bookstore reminded her.
The chair by the window where Celeste used to sit, flipping through books she never bought.
The faint scent of rain that lingered, even when the weather was dry.
The quiet hum of a song Raine had never heard until Celeste played it.
She told herself to move on.
To let Celeste go.
But then, a week later, Celeste walked back through the door as if nothing had changed.
Raine nearly dropped the book she was holding.
Celeste stood there, guitar case slung over her shoulder, her usual guarded expression in place.
Raine had imagined this moment a hundred times—what she would say, how she would act, whether she would demand an explanation or pretend she didn't care.
But in the end, all she could do was stare.
"…You're back," Raine said, her voice quieter than she intended.
Celeste nodded, stepping inside.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Raine waited for an apology that never came.
Celeste simply walked past her, settling into her usual seat by the window.
Just like that.
As if nothing had happened.
As if she hadn't crushed Raine's heart a week ago.
Raine let out a slow breath, closing her eyes for a second.
She had two choices—
She could push Celeste away, demand answers, force a confrontation.
Or she could let her stay, pretend that things hadn't changed.
In the end, she did the only thing she could.
She let Celeste stay.
She didn't ask where she had been.
She didn't ask why she had come back.
And Celeste didn't offer any explanations.
Instead, they fell back into their familiar rhythm.
Celeste sitting in silence, flipping through books.
Raine pretending not to watch her.
And yet, something was different.
The air between them felt heavier, weighed down by everything unsaid.
The rejection still sat between them, unspoken but present.
Raine knew she should be angry.
She knew she should demand an explanation.
But she didn't.
Because even after everything, even after the hurt, she still wanted Celeste there.
Even if it meant pretending.
Even if it meant keeping her feelings buried.
But as days passed, Raine realized something—
Celeste wasn't pushing her away anymore.
She was still distant, still unreadable, but she wasn't running.
She kept coming back, lingering in the bookstore longer than before.
And sometimes, just sometimes, Raine caught her staring.
At her hands.
At her lips.
At the way she smiled when talking about books.
But whenever Raine met her gaze, Celeste would look away.
As if caught in something she didn't want to admit.
Raine's heart ached.
Because she knew.
Celeste felt something.
Even if she refused to say it.
Even if she would never act on it.
Raine didn't know what hurt more—
The rejection itself, or the fact that Celeste was still here, still choosing to be near her, but refusing to give them a chance.
And so, they stayed in limbo.
Neither together nor apart.
A love left hanging in the air, waiting for something—
Something that would never come.