Tyler woke to sunlight streaming through the window, painting golden stripes across his bed.
He showered, feeling the day's potential wash over him—a feeling strangely different from the previous days' despair.
Back in his room, he spotted the golden necklace lying on his bed where it had slipped off during the night.
He picked it up, turning the tiny flower pendant between his fingers, examining the intricate details carved into the gold.
Should I wear it?
A part of him scoffed at the idea. The whole thing felt ridiculous, like some cheap trinket from a tourist shop.
But another part, a small hopeful part, whispered that maybe, just maybe, it would not hurt to try.
He slipped it on, the cool metal a comforting weight against his skin.
He decided on a walk, choosing a route that would take him past the coffee shop Sarah frequented.
As he walked, the familiar nervousness returned, settling in his stomach like a swarm of butterflies.
He spotted the coffee shop ahead, its windows displaying the tempting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries wafting into the street.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and stepped inside.
The bell above the door chimed softly.
There she was, sitting at her usual table by the window, her blonde hair catching the sunlight like strands of gold.
The years had been kind to her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered from their high school days.
The memory of high school flooded back—Sarah, the most popular girl, seemingly untouchable, a figure from a different world entirely.
He approached her table, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
"Sarah?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.
She looked up from her phone, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Hi, Sarah," Tyler said, offering a tentative smile.
"Who are you?" she asked, her tone polite but distant.
"Tyler," he replied, his smile faltering slightly under her blank stare.
"Tyler Evans."
She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, as if searching through mental files.
"I... I do not think I remember you," she said finally, a hint of nervousness creeping into her voice.
"We went to high school together," Tyler offered, trying to keep his voice light and casual.
A nervous laugh escaped Sarah's lips, short and uncertain.
"Oh," she said, the word sounding a little strained.
She gestured to the chair opposite her with a graceful hand.
"Please, sit."
He sat down, noticing the subtle disappointment that flickered across her expression before she masked it with politeness.
He tried to ignore it, focusing on keeping the conversation flowing despite the awkwardness.
The initial excitement he had felt had dimmed considerably, like a candle guttering in the wind.
He cleared his throat.
"So... uh... what are you up to these days?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"Still into photography?" he added, remembering a project she had done in their art class years ago.
"Actually, no," Sarah said, a little hesitantly, fidgeting with her coffee cup.
"I am not really into photography anymore. I am... I am in marketing now."
The conversation felt stilted, awkward, like two strangers forced to share an elevator.
Tyler struggled to find common ground, to bridge the gap between the girl he remembered from high school and the woman sitting across from him.
He tried to steer the conversation towards other shared memories, but they seemed to evaporate like morning mist, leaving a void filled with uncomfortable silences.
"Marketing sounds interesting," Tyler said, desperately searching for something to say.
"What kind of marketing do you do?"
"Digital marketing, mostly," Sarah replied, her answers growing shorter.
"Social media campaigns, brand management, that sort of thing."
Another pause stretched between them, heavy and awkward.
Tyler could feel sweat forming on his palms.
This is going terribly. Why did I think this was a good idea?
Just as he was desperately searching for another topic, a familiar figure appeared at the edge of the table.
It was the man from the black car, the impeccably dressed young man who had whisked Sarah away that previous afternoon.
"Babe, it is time to go," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with confidence as he placed a possessive hand on Sarah's shoulder.
Sarah looked at Tyler, a flicker of something—perhaps guilt, perhaps pity—crossing her eyes before disappearing.
"Hey, it was... nice to meet you, Tyler," she said, her tone polite but distant, the words feeling rehearsed.
She stood up gracefully, her boyfriend already holding her chair with practiced ease.
She offered a quick wave, barely more than a flutter of fingers, before turning and walking away with him.
Tyler watched them leave through the window, her boyfriend's arm sliding around her waist as they disappeared into the crowd.
A wave of disappointment washed over him, cold and crushing, like being dunked in ice water.
Embarrassment burned in his cheeks, hot and persistent.
He had not even considered the possibility that she might have a boyfriend—a boyfriend who clearly had a much more impressive life than his own.
The image of Sarah in the car, the fleeting hope he had felt that morning, now felt like a cruel joke played by fate itself.
His dreams, so fragile, so easily shattered like glass.
Anger, sharp and bitter, began to simmer beneath the surface of his disappointment.
I should have known better. Of course she has a boyfriend. Of course someone like her would never be interested in someone like me.
He had not even thought to consider that possibility.
He felt foolish, naive, and utterly defeated.
Tyler stood up from the table, ignoring the curious glances from other customers, and walked out of the coffee shop.
The bell chimed mockingly as he left.