One evening, she sat in her usual spot by the window, flipping through a book Raine had recommended. The next day, she was gone. No calls. No texts. No explanation.
At first, Raine told herself not to overthink it. Maybe Celeste was busy. Maybe she had a gig. Maybe she would walk through the door tomorrow as if nothing had happened—just like before.
But tomorrow came.
And then the day after.
And another.
And Celeste never returned.
Raine checked her phone more than she wanted to admit. There was no point, she knew that. Celeste had never given her a number, never left a way to be reached.
Still, she checked.
Just in case.
The bookstore felt emptier without her.
It was ridiculous, really—Celeste had never been loud, never taken up much space. And yet, her absence felt like something tangible, like the air itself had changed.
A week passed.
Then two.
Raine told herself to move on.
She had done this before. Celeste had disappeared once, hadn't she? And she had come back. Maybe she would again.
But something felt different this time.
This wasn't just Celeste keeping her distance.
This wasn't just another rejection.
This felt final.
Raine tried to ignore the worry creeping in, but it settled deep in her chest, refusing to let go.
One night, she found herself walking the streets, retracing old steps.
The café where Celeste had once strummed her guitar absentmindedly. The alley where they had once taken shelter from the rain.
The places Celeste had left traces of herself.
But there was nothing. No sign of her.
Raine hated how much it hurt.
She hated the way her chest clenched every time she saw someone with a guitar case slung over their shoulder.
She hated the unanswered questions circling in her mind.
Had Celeste left town?
Had she grown tired of Raine, tired of the bookstore, tired of this dance between them?
Or—
Had something happened?
The thought clawed at her, refusing to be silenced.
Because the Celeste she knew—no matter how distant, no matter how guarded—wouldn't have left without a word.
Would she?
A month passed.
Then another.
And Celeste remained gone.
Raine wanted to hate her.
Wanted to be angry.
But she couldn't.
Because beneath the ache, beneath the confusion, there was only one truth—
She missed her.
More than she should.
More than she wanted to admit.
And the worst part?
She had no idea if she would ever see Celeste again.