The café door clicked shut behind me, and the cold air hit my face like a slap. The rain had intensified, but I didn't bother opening my umbrella. In the short walk to the car, Zack's final sentence remained stuck in my mind like a broken record: "I just... can't stop remembering you."
I slid into the driver's seat and pulled the door shut with a sharp thud. The world outside instantly went quiet, leaving only the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops against the roof. I placed my hands on the steering wheel; they were ice-cold and trembling slightly. I looked into the rearview mirror. The reflection looking back didn't feel familiar. The twenty-six-year-old English teacher seemed to have been left behind at that table in the café. In her place was a woman who felt exhausted, detached.
"Remembering..." I whispered to myself. "Remembering isn't enough, Zack. Believing wasn't enough."
I started the engine. As the wipers cleared the blurred vision in front of me, my brain struggled to wipe away those photos. How had they managed to turn my innocent moments with Ethan into such a dirty script? The thought of Ada's role in this made me sick. So, she had been feeding him everything, manipulating him. But the truly painful part was how eager Zack had been to believe it.
Throughout the drive, I questioned more than just the road; I questioned the last few months. When I arrived home, the silence of the apartment settled over me. I shed my damp clothes, pulled on my most comfortable cardigan, and sank into the sofa. I didn't turn on the TV or the lights. I just sat in the dark.
Just then, my phone screen lit up. The notification light glowed like a small star in the darkened room. My heart skipped a beat for no reason.
Ethan: "Hey, I heard from Ada... you met with Zack. Are you okay? I'm actually back in town—I managed to take some time off, so I'm here if you need anything. If you want to get out of the house, I'd love to take you to that quiet place you like for dinner. No pressure, just wanted you to know I'm around."
I read the message over and over. He was back. The fact that he had taken leave and was here, right when everything with Zack had finally crumbled, felt heavy with meaning. Beside Zack's selfish confession, Ethan's presence felt like a steady anchor.
But as I stared at his name on the screen, a new kind of panic started to rise. I thought about the photos Zack showed me. I remembered the way Ethan looked at me in that café, the way he laughed at my stupid jokes, the way he always seemed to know when I was having a bad day at the district office.
Wait, I thought, my chest tightening. Can I really like him? Like... LIKE him?
The idea felt dangerous and thrilling all at once. Was I just looking for an escape, or had these feelings been growing in the shadows while I was busy trying to save a sinking ship? I thought about his hands, his voice, the way he made me feel like I didn't have to be "on" all the time.
Was Zack actually right about one thing? Was I already halfway out the door because Ethan was standing on the other side?
My gaze remained fixed on the phone. I remembered how safe I felt whenever I was with him. That "happiness" visible from the outside in those photos—it wasn't a lie. But was it friendship, or was it the start of something that could actually break me or make me whole?
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitant. Typing "Yes" felt like more than just a dinner date; it felt like admitting that the "golden couple" was dead, and that I was finally ready to see what was waiting for me in the light.