ZARA'S APARTMENT
Zara sat cross-legged on the couch, her arms hugging a throw pillow to her chest as she waited. It had been three days since Liam came over and asked her to be his girlfriend. Three quiet days where he hadn't texted much, hadn't called, but she didn't panic. Not yet. Because when he held her that night, there was something sincere in his eyes—something broken, yes, but honest.
She kept replaying that moment over and over again. His words. His hesitation. The way he avoided meeting her gaze until the very end. It wasn't the fairytale way a man was supposed to ask a woman out, but this wasn't a fairytale. This was Liam. Complicated. Guarded. And clearly, still attached to someone else.
A knock echoed through her apartment. Her heart skipped. She jumped up, adjusting her oversized hoodie as she moved to the door. She opened it to find him standing there, hands in his pockets, head slightly bowed.
"Hey," he said, voice low.
Zara smiled softly. "Hey."
He stepped in, not waiting for an invitation, and kicked his shoes off without looking at her. She watched him with a mixture of joy and fear. Joy because he came. Fear because she didn't know where his heart was.
Liam collapsed onto the couch, sighing as he rested his head back. "Long day."
"You okay?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. Just... thinking a lot."
Zara sat beside him, leaving a bit of space. She didn't touch him. Not yet.
"About us?" she asked quietly.
His silence was telling. Then finally, he turned his head toward her. "Partly."
She nodded. "You can talk to me, Liam. I can handle it."
He looked at her like he was trying to decide whether to tell the truth or spare her feelings. "I still think about Mia. Not because I want to, but because it just happens."
Zara inhaled deeply. It wasn't unexpected. "I figured."
"But I don't want to keep hurting. And I don't want to be that guy who breaks every girl who cares about him."
"Then don't," she whispered.
Liam chuckled dryly. "Easier said than done."
She inched closer, just enough for her arm to brush his. "Then let me help. You don't have to pretend with me. Just be honest. Always."
He looked at her. And for the first time that evening, his shoulders relaxed.
....
Later, after takeout and quiet conversation, they found themselves side by side on the couch. Zara lay with her head on his lap as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair. It was domestic. Simple. Too simple.
"You ever think we rushed this?" he asked suddenly.
Zara looked up at him. "Define 'rushed.'"
"I mean, one night, and then this... whatever this is."
She smiled softly. "That one night meant something to me. Did it mean something to you?"
He hesitated.
"Liam, just say it."
"It did. I just don't know what it meant. Not yet."
She sat up, folding her legs beneath her. "Then let's figure it out together."
He stared at her for a long moment. Then he reached for her hand. She let him.
"I'm scared," he admitted.
"Of what?"
"Of messing this up. Of using you and not even realizing it. Of hurting you."
Zara gently squeezed his hand. "Then just don't use me. If it's love, let it grow. If it's healing, let it happen. But don't lie to me, Liam. Don't promise what you can't give."
There was silence between them. The air thick with things unspoken.
She stood and walked to the window, arms folded. He followed her with his eyes.
"You know," she said, still staring out. "Even if I know your heart is with someone else... I still want to be the reason it forgets. Even for a moment."
He got up and moved behind her. Close. Not touching.
"You deserve better than a half-broken man."
She turned to face him. "Maybe. But what if you're only half-broken because no one ever stayed long enough to see the whole of you?"
He blinked. He hadn't expected that.
"Sometimes," she whispered, stepping closer, "what we want is unreachable. But what we need? That's standing right in front of us."
He looked at her lips. Then at her eyes. And for once, Mia wasn't at the front of his mind. Not even in the room.
He leaned in slowly, and she met him halfway. A kiss. Not rushed. Not lust-driven. Just real. And soft. And terrifying.
When they parted, she leaned her forehead against his.
"Stay the night," she said.
He nodded, and for the first time, not because of sex.
The Next Day
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains. Liam woke first, staring at the ceiling. His arm was around Zara, who lay curled against him. She looked peaceful. Content. And he hated that he was still thinking about Mia.
He slipped out of bed and stepped into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He poured himself a glass of water and stood in silence.
He hadn't seen Mia in a while. Not since that dinner. But the image of her—that laugh, that smile, the way she looked at Austin with genuine affection—it haunted him.
He wasn't jealous of their love. He was jealous that he couldn't love the same way. With certainty.
But maybe Zara was right. Maybe love didn't have to be grand. Maybe it just had to be real.
She entered the kitchen quietly, wearing one of his shirts. "Morning."
He turned, smiling faintly. "Morning."
She stepped into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe, just maybe, it was.
MIA'S POV
LUNTUS CAFE
Elsewhere, Mia sat at a cafe waiting for Austin. She scrolled through Instagram, sipping on her caramel latte, until a familiar name popped up in her DMs.
Zara.
She frowned. The message read:
"Hey Mia, I think we should talk."
She read it twice.
Why was Zara messaging her?
She stared out the window, heart beginning to race.
What could Zara possibly want to talk about?
And why did she feel like her whole world was about to shift?.