Theme song:The night we met by Lord Huron*
There's a certain kind of silence that happens between two people who don't know how to name what they're building.
That's what it was with Elian and me.
He still came every morning at 8:13 sharp. He still sat in that same corner, eyes cast toward the window like he was waiting for something the world never gave back. But on Thursday, something changed.
He pulled the second chair out.
"You always stand," he said, not looking up from his coffee.
I blinked. "I work."
"You clean the same spot twice whenever I'm here."
He wasn't wrong.
The café was half empty, and the weather outside made the streets glisten like glass. I hesitated, holding a tray of clean cups, unsure if sitting meant something I couldn't take back.
But I sat anyway.
He didn't talk much at first, and neither did I. We just sat in a kind of silence that didn't need explaining. His phone stayed in his pocket. Mine stayed behind the counter.
I glanced at the book he was pretending to read. "You've been on page 7 for four days."
He smiled. Really smiled this time. It changed his whole face—like the sadness loosened its grip just for a second.
"Maybe I've been distracted."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I picked up his book, flipped it over, and saw the photo still tucked inside. The edge peeked out—just enough to tempt.
"You never read it?" I asked.
He hesitated. "I did once. A long time ago."
"Was it hers?"
A quiet pause. The kind that confirms everything without words.
He nodded slowly. "She liked stories with sad endings."
"And you?"
"I never used to. But lately... maybe they're the ones that stay."
I didn't ask who she was. Or where she went. I just looked at him and felt something deep inside me shift. Like a door had opened and I'd stepped into a room I wasn't ready for—but didn't want to leave.
It wasn't love. Not yet.
But it was something.
That afternoon, as he stood to leave, he did something he'd never done before.
He turned to me, eyes softer than I'd ever seen them, and said, "Tomorrow, I'll bring two coffees. You deserve to sit, too."
And just like that, he was gone.
But the chair stayed pulled out.
Like it remembered me.