Erica's hand trembled as she stared at her phone screen. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she finally typed:
[Nicole, meet me at the coffee shop.]
It didn't take long for Nicole to reply.
[Why?]
[I need to talk to you.]
A few seconds passed before Nicole sent another message.
[Is it about Claude?]
Erica didn't answer. She just ended the call before Nicole could say more. Her heart was pounding too fast, and her mind was drowning in questions she had been too afraid to ask. Why did Nicole do it again? Why did she keep leaving people like they were nothing?
The next day, the scent of coffee lingered thick in the air, mixing with the soft jazz playing in the background. Erica was already seated by the window, her eyes fixed on the street outside. She wasn't sipping her drink. She wasn't even blinking. She was just… waiting.
Nicole entered the café a few minutes late. Her face looked tired—more tired than Erica had ever seen. There was no light in her eyes, only a heaviness that followed her in like a shadow. She spotted Erica and walked toward her slowly, like every step took effort.
As she sat down, Erica didn't smile. She didn't nod. Her eyes just narrowed slightly, searching Nicole's face for a trace of truth—anything honest, anything raw. But all she saw was pain.
"Nicole," Erica said, voice low but steady. "Be honest. Why did you do that?"
Nicole blinked, caught off guard. "Do what?" she asked, her voice so soft it barely reached across the table.
Erica leaned forward. "Why are you always running away? Why can't you fix things before you leave? Why do you always pretend like nothing happened? Why, Nicole?" Her voice cracked at the end, and her chest tightened with every word.
Nicole froze. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Tears began to gather in her eyes, threatening to spill.
"I'm sorry, Erica," she whispered.
"Don't say sorry," Erica snapped, slamming her palm on the table. "It's useless."
Nicole flinched, but she didn't look away. She took a shaky breath. "I broke up with Claude because I couldn't keep lying to him. I didn't want him to keep hoping I felt the same."
Erica laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Shut up, Nicole. Just—shut up."
And then—without warning—Nicole reached across the table and kissed her.
It wasn't a soft kiss. It was desperate. Painful. A kiss full of guilt and memories and regret. Erica's body tensed. Her eyes widened. When she pulled away, her face was red—not from embarrassment, but from rage.
"Are you out of your mind?!" she shouted, pushing Nicole away. "Why did you do that? Have you forgotten that I have a girlfriend?!"
Nicole's tears finally broke free, falling fast down her cheeks. "That's the truth, Erica," she choked out. "I still love you."
She reached for Erica's hand and held it tight, despite the other girl trying to pull away.
"Can we… go back together?" Nicole whispered. "Please?"
Unbeknownst to them, Angel stood near the back of the café, half-hidden behind a pillar. She had followed Erica there without saying anything, feeling something strange in her chest all morning. Now she watched them, frozen, unable to move.
She saw the kiss.
And with it came the sharp pain in her heart.
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to breathe, trying to stay still. Are they getting back together? the thought burned in her mind. But she shook her head. No… Erica loves me. I know she does. And yet, a part of her heart began to crumble, quietly and slowly.
Back at the table, Erica stood up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her breathing was shallow.
"You don't get to do this," she said, voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You don't get to come back into my life and mess everything up again. I've worked so hard to move on, Nicole. I've bled for it. I've cried for it. I gave everything I had just to forget you."
Nicole's eyes widened, trembling in her seat.
Erica took a deep breath. Her voice lowered, but it was colder now. "And now you want to come back? You think one kiss, one sorry, is enough?"
Nicole bit her lip hard, trying not to cry louder. "But it's not just a kiss, Erica. It's not just a sorry. It's… everything. You're everything."
Erica looked at her for a long moment. Then she slowly pulled her hand from Nicole's grasp and stepped back.
"No," she whispered. "You had your chance."
Nicole's face broke completely then. Her sobs came fast, uncontained. She reached forward again, but Erica was already turning away.
Without another word, Erica walked out of the café, leaving Nicole behind—alone, crying, and full of regret.
As she stepped outside, Erica paused and leaned against the wall, her heart aching. She didn't notice Angel standing there at first, a few meters away, pretending she hadn't seen anything.
When their eyes met, Angel gave a small smile—forced and hollow.
Erica didn't say anything.
Neither did Angel.
But something between them shifted that day. Something small but heavy settled in the silence.
And inside the café, Nicole sat alone, her hands shaking as she clutched her chest, whispering
to herself over and over, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
But there was no one left to listen.