You know what? Life is short. Here today and gone like the wind tomorrow. After we'd dropped my Dad at home and my parents were settled in. I texted Ethan, our playful banters soon became full blown conversations and chats, all through the night.
I didn't sleep much after our texting marathon. Ethan had this way of turning late-night chatter into something weightless. jokes about my terrible music taste, a callback to the time we almost got locked on a rooftop in college, a string of emojis that shouldn't have been funny but made me laugh in the dark like a teenager. By morning, I was both exhausted and… floating like a teenager in love for the first time.
Ethan provided the distraction I really needed from the weight on my shoulders. The constant hanging dread of my father giving up the good fight was ever hanging. Every moment with Dad now felt like borrowed time. Subconsciously, I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Even now, happy and distracted, every phone call evoked panic in me, till I confirmed it wasn't from Mum.
The Cafe he picked was the kind of place you brag about finding on Instagram. Sunlight spilled across its wooden tables, and the smell of good coffee practically hugged me when I walked in. Ethan was already there, grinning like he'd been waiting an hour.
"You're late," he said.
"I'm three minutes early."
"I've been here fifteen. In my time zone, that's late."
I rolled my eyes but felt my cheeks warm.
The waiter came, and Ethan ordered without even looking at me. "Hazelnut latte for her, black coffee for me, and the crispy pepita salad to start."
I blinked. "Wow, you still remember my order?"
He leaned back, a smile tugging at his dimples. "I remember everything that matters."
The words landed heavier than they should have. We talked through appetizers like no time had passed. My Dad's failing health, work stress, Priya's disastrous tinder story, a college memory that had us both laughing until the waiter side-eyed us. Somewhere between bites, his hand found mine on the table, and neither of us pulled away.
It felt like we'd already made a decision without saying it out loud. We were dating again. Or at least pretending we weren't terrified of dating again.
Between courses, Ethan's voice softened. "I missed this. Missed… you. The world's quieter when you're in it."
I swallowed hard. "Don't get poetic on me, Ethan."
"Too late." He brushed a crumb from my lip with his thumb like it was nothing, but my pulse went rogue.
Dessert arrived, chocolate tart. He reached for the last bite, and I smacked his hand lightly.
"Some things never change," I said.
"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," he replied, eyes steady on mine.
The afternoon blurred into gold as we left the cafe, shoulders brushing like we'd rehearsed it. The city was loud, messy, alive, and for once it all felt backgrounded, like the universe had set the stage just for us.
"You free Friday?, that's if your Dad doesn't have any follow up appointments?" he asked as we walked."
"I could be."
"I want to cook for you."
I laughed. "You? Cook? The last time you tried, your risotto could've patched the drywall."
He clutched his chest in mock pain. "Cruel. I've improved. Come to my place. Let me prove it."
Something in his tone, unguarded, hopeful, made my breath catch. Accepting felt like stepping backward and forward at once, into a history, I'd half-buried and a future I hadn't dared to imagine.
We stopped at the subway stairs, neither of us quite willing to end it. He tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear with maddening gentleness.
"Friday, then?" he asked.
"Friday," I said, pretending my heartbeat wasn't auditioning for a drumline.
He kissed me slowly, deliberate, like he was memorizing me all over again. For a heartbeat, the city vanished. There was no Zane Cross, no sabotage, no text from a faceless account. Just Ethan's hands framing my face and the taste of hazelnut latte on my lips.
When we finally broke apart, he smiled like he'd just won a prize. "Text me when you get home?"
"Obviously."
I started down the subway steps grinning like an idiot. Before I even reached the platform, my phone buzzed
I shook my head, smiling as I typed a reply, but another notification slid across the top of my screen before I could send it:
CROSS DEVELOPMENT LEAK ESCALATES—ANONYMOUS TIP CLAIMS "INSIDER COVER-UP."
The headline stole my breath. Even perfect kisses couldn't keep the world at bay.
I slipped the phone into my pocket without replying to either alert.
Friday with Ethan couldn't come fast enough. I needed a breather from Zane Cross's empire which always had cracks, and threatened to swallow everyone who stood too close.