LANA'S POV
I told myself I wasn't going to check my phone that morning.
But I did.
Twice before I even got out of bed.
The text from Caleb still stared back at me, cruel in its simplicity.
"Lana. I'm sorry. Last night shouldn't have happened. I made a mistake. Please forget it."
The bracelet sat on my nightstand, still nestled in its little velvet box like a secret that didn't know whether to be treasured or returned.
I turned away from it.
I tried to pretend it didn't hurt.
Tried to convince myself it was relief. After all, I didn't really know him. We hadn't kissed. We hadn't even crossed the lines that some people would call emotional. Except… we had. In a way that felt messier. More personal. More dangerous.
And now, apparently, forgettable.
The café was slow that morning. Rainy days always made for quiet hours and too many thoughts. I adjusted the display case three times, cleaned the pastry fridge, then rearranged the mugs just to keep my hands busy.
But my thoughts? They kept circling back to Caleb Stone.
Not the customer. Not the businessman. The man who stood in the rain last night and told me I made him forget.
He meant it.
I know he did.
And still, he walked away.
The bell over the door rang around ten. It wasn't him.
Not at noon either.
By three, I'd given up looking.
Gracie showed up around four, bringing with her the scent of cinnamon lip gloss and fresh gossip.
"You look like you've been ghosted," she said as she dropped her bag behind the counter.
I blinked. "What?"
"Nothing. Just—you've got that 'I trusted a man for a second and now I regret everything' look."
I gave a weak laugh. "Is it that obvious?"
She tilted her head. "You never tell me anything anymore. Who was he?"
"No one," I said too quickly. "Just… someone I thought might be more than a regular."
Gracie narrowed her eyes. "Wait—do you mean Caleb Stone? The mocha guy?"
I stared at her.
She gasped. "You do! Lana! I've been waiting for this day!"
"It's not like that," I mumbled, suddenly needing to reorganize the sugar packets. "We just talked a few times. He… gave me something. Then took it back. Metaphorically."
Gracie was already halfway into her next sentence when she stopped. "Wait. Gave you something?"
I reached under the counter and handed her the velvet box.
She opened it.
"Holy crap."
"Yeah."
"This is not metaphorical."
I didn't answer.
Gracie closed the box gently. "Do you want him to come back?"
I paused. "I don't know."
"Do you like him?"
Another pause. "I don't know."
She nodded like she understood. "Then maybe you're not ready to let it mean something."
I looked up at her.
"Feelings are like coffee, Lana. If you rush it, it gets bitter. Let it sit too long? It goes cold. The trick is to sip slowly and see if it warms you."
I smiled despite myself. "That analogy was terrible."
"Yeah, well, so is heartbreak."
We were quiet for a beat.
Then I whispered, "He held my hand."
Gracie raised her eyebrows.
"Just once. And he didn't kiss me. And I think that's what made it feel worse when he disappeared. Like even that one honest moment was too much for him."
Gracie didn't say anything for a long time.
Finally, she nodded. "Okay. Well, if he's too afraid of holding your hand, he doesn't deserve to hold your heart."
I didn't respond.
Not because I disagreed.
But because somewhere deep inside, I wasn't sure if I'd already given it to him.
—
That night, I closed the café alone.
The bracelet still sat in the drawer beneath the counter.
I didn't text him.
I didn't delete his message either.
Instead, I brewed a cup of chamomile tea, sat in the window where he used to sit, and watched the rain trickle down the glass.
I didn't know what I wanted from Caleb Stone.
But I knew I didn't want to forget the glimpse I'd seen behind his eyes.
And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't ready to forget me either.