The days stretched into weeks. Ethan's visits became a steady thing, woven into Madison's routine. She found herself waiting for the jingle of the bell that meant he'd arrived.
But questions lingered. Who was he really? What had driven him back to Charleston after so long?
One late evening, they sat together in the empty café. Ethan nursed a coffee long gone cold. Madison wiped down the counter, stealing glances.
"You don't have to keep pretending," Ethan said suddenly.
"Pretending what?"
"That you're not curious."
Madison set her cloth down, leaning on her elbows. "Maybe. But curiosity isn't always safe."
Ethan's eyes met hers across the dimly lit room. "Neither is holding back."
The quiet between them stretched until it wasn't silence at all. It was something deeper. Something neither of them knew how to name yet.
The next morning, the rhythm of the city resumed, but Madison felt changed. The quiet in her café didn't feel as heavy. It felt expectant, as if waiting for what came next.
Ethan still showed up every day. They didn't always speak much, but the silences grew deeper, filled with shared meaning.
One afternoon, Willow cornered Madison while wiping down a table. "You and Ethan what's really going on?"
Madison paused. "I'm not sure."
Willow shook her head. "You're braver than you think. Don't let something real slip away because you're scared."
Madison thought about that as she watched Ethan reading by the window, unaware of her gaze.
Later, as she locked up for the night, Ethan lingered by the door.
"Want company on your walk home?" he asked.
Madison's heart fluttered. "Yeah," she said softly. "I'd like that."
Together, they stepped into the Charleston dusk two quiet souls learning how to share the same quiet.
The morning Savannah Clarke reappeared, Madison wasn't prepared. It had been weeks since her last visit.
Savannah walked in, her heels clicking sharply on the café floor. Madison's stomach tightened. She didn't know why until she saw the flicker of recognition and tension in Ethan's posture when Savannah walked past him.
Savannah's voice was smooth as polished glass. "Ethan."
Madison tried not to stare. Tried not to listen. But she heard every word.
"We need to talk," Savannah said.
Ethan didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened. His coffee cup sat untouched on the table.
"Not here," he said finally, voice flat.
Savannah glanced at Madison, her eyes cool. "Fine."
When she left, the silence in the café wasn't peaceful. It was sharp. Charged.
Madison wiped her hands on a towel that didn't need cleaning.
"Want to tell me what that was about?" she asked eventually.
Ethan didn't look at her. "Not yet."
And just like that, the wall between them rose again. Not as high as before. But high enough.