The café, once a safe haven of warmth and familiarity, now felt like a stage set for a play she hadn't rehearsed for. Around them, life went on—customers laughed, plates clinked, steam hissed from the espresso machine. But at their table, time held its breath.
Luca leaned back, resting his arm over the back of the chair like he belonged there. Like no time had passed at all. "So," he said casually, his gaze flicking between them. "What have I missed?"
Mia stared at him, unsure where to even begin. What had he missed? Only everything.
Years of silence. Of healing. Of questioning and growing and learning how to live without the weight of wondering. And still, with one look, he had unraveled all of it.
Ethan spoke before she could. "Plenty," he said, his tone still neutral, but now firmer. "But some things aren't yours to know anymore."
Luca's eyes narrowed slightly, the smile on his lips cooling. "Fair enough," he said, leaning forward just a bit. "But some things don't just disappear. Some things stick with you, whether you want them to or not."
Mia's breath caught. The words weren't pointed directly at her, but they pierced just the same.
She looked away, out the window, at the leaves tumbling across the pavement like scattered thoughts. She'd wanted closure. Hadn't she? She'd spent so long wondering why Luca had left. And now he was here, as if summoned by the very thoughts she'd tried to forget.
Beside her, Ethan sat rigid, his knuckles white around the edge of the table. She could feel his hurt without even looking at him.
This wasn't just a reunion.
It was the beginning of a storm. Mia sat between them like a live wire, feeling the heat of Ethan's tension and the cold, familiar pull of Luca's charm. It was surreal—two parts of her life that were never meant to touch, now seated across from each other like opposing sides of a coin she could no longer flip.
She took a shaky sip of her coffee, the taste suddenly bitter on her tongue. The silence pressed against her chest, thick and close. She could feel both of them watching her, and the weight of their expectations was almost unbearable.
"So," Luca said again, the corner of his mouth curling up with faint amusement. "You two… know each other well?"
Mia blinked. "Yes. Ethan and I—"
"Grew up together," Ethan finished, his voice quiet, but firm. He shifted slightly, resting his arm along the back of Mia's chair. It wasn't a declaration of possession—it was a reminder. A subtle signal. I'm still here.
"We've been friends for years," Mia said, her voice softer. "He's always been part of my life."
Luca raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting briefly to Ethan's arm. "Friends," he repeated. "Right."
The word hung in the air, carrying more meaning than it should have. Mia could hear the undertone in Luca's voice—a challenge, a question left unspoken. She didn't know what answer he wanted, or if she even had one.
Ethan leaned forward slightly. "What about you, Luca? Disappeared for years and now you're just… back?" He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. There was steel in his calm.
Luca didn't flinch. "I had things to take care of."
"Didn't think to tell Mia?"
Mia's breath caught. She hadn't expected Ethan to say it out loud, to lay it bare like that. The hurt in his voice wasn't sharp—it was quiet, restrained—but that only made it more painful.
Luca glanced at her then, and for the first time, she saw something flicker across his expression—regret, maybe. Or guilt. Maybe even both.
"I wanted to," he said, and his voice was lower now, almost tender. "I just… couldn't."
Mia looked at him, her chest tightening. "You left without a word, Luca. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing. I didn't know if something had happened to you, or if I'd done something wrong. I didn't even know where you were."
Luca lowered his eyes for a moment. "I know."
The words hung heavy in the space between them.
Mia tried to stay composed, but the old wounds were starting to ache again. She had spent so long burying them, convincing herself that they didn't matter—that she'd moved on. But now, with Luca sitting right in front of her, it was like the ground had opened and everything she'd buried was crawling back to the surface.
Ethan watched her closely, his expression guarded. He didn't reach for her, didn't say anything. But Mia could feel his presence like a wall at her back, steady and unwavering. It was the kind of comfort that didn't demand anything, that just was there.
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Why now?" she asked Luca. "Why come back?"
Luca looked up again, and this time, his expression was raw.
"Because I couldn't stay away anymore."
Mia froze.
Luca held her gaze. "I thought leaving would make things easier. For you. For me. I was wrong. I thought I could forget you if I put enough distance between us, but I never did. And when I heard you were still here… I had to see you."
Mia didn't know what to say, what to feel. The part of her that had missed him for so long ached at his words, but the part that had found peace—however fragile—with Ethan, recoiled from them.
Luca continued, quieter now. "You were everything to me. I just… I wasn't ready. I was scared. Of how much I felt. Of what it meant."
Ethan's jaw tensed. "And now you're what? Not scared anymore?"
"No," Luca said simply. "Now I know what it feels like to live without her. And I don't want that anymore."
The honesty in his voice sent a ripple through Mia's chest. She hated that it still moved her. Hated that some part of her still responded to him like it always had.
Ethan stood.