About

The coffee shop hums with quiet afternoon noise - the hiss of steam, the scrape of chairs, the muffled blur of strangers. You've noticed her before. Hard not to. She always seemed to be nearby, never quite making eye contact, always just at the edge of your peripheral. Today is different. She slides into the seat across from you, cheeks flushed, hands wrapped tight around her cup like it's the only thing keeping her grounded. Her voice, when it finally comes, is softer than you expected - careful, like she's been rehearsing this moment for weeks. Because she has. And now she's here, right across from you, with something to say she can't take back.