CHal
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The thought lingered long after Kiara locked the doors of Torres Brew that night. She stood alone on the sidewalk, keys clenched tightly in her palm, staring at the darkened glass where her reflection stared back at her—tired eyes, guarded expression, a girl who had learned too early not to expect much from life.
She shook her head and exhaled slowly.
Don't be stupid, Kiara, she told herself.
Men like Shane Benson didn't walk into lives like hers and stay for the right reasons. They came, they disrupted, and they left—often without even realizing the damage they caused.
The next morning, the city was louder than usual.
Kiara noticed it the moment she opened the shop. Conversations hushed when she passed. Eyes lingered a little too long. Smiles felt forced. She tried to ignore it, but the weight of it followed her behind the counter.
By mid-morning, she overheard it.
"So that's her?" a woman whispered near the pastry display.
"The coffee girl?"
"I heard Shane Benson's been coming here every day."
Kiara's hand tightened around the cup she was holding.
Another voice chimed in, not bothering to lower its tone. "Must be nice. Catching the attention of a man like that."
Heat crept up her neck. She focused on the register, pretending not to hear, pretending it didn't hurt. She had survived worse than gossip—but this felt different. This felt invasive.
When Shane walked in an hour later, the shop practically stilled.
Heads turned. Whispers sharpened.
Kiara looked up and met his gaze, her chest tightening against her will. He noticed the tension immediately.
"Rough morning?" he asked quietly as he took his usual seat at the counter.
"You could say that," she replied, avoiding his eyes.
As she handed him his coffee, a woman stepped forward from a corner table. Tall, elegant, dressed in confidence and expensive perfume, she smiled brightly at Shane.
"Shane," the woman said, her voice smooth. "I didn't expect to see you here."
He straightened slightly. "Clara."
Kiara froze.
So she had a name.
Clara's eyes flicked briefly toward Kiara, slow and assessing, before returning to Shane. "I've been calling you. You haven't answered."
"I've been busy," Shane replied evenly.
"Clearly," Clara said, glancing pointedly at the counter, at Kiara's apron, at the shop.
Something sharp twisted in Kiara's chest. She hated the feeling—unfamiliar, unwelcome, dangerously close to jealousy.
"I didn't realize you liked places like this," Clara continued. "You usually prefer… more refined environments."
Kiara swallowed hard and turned away, pretending to rearrange cups. She didn't need to hear this. She didn't need to care.
But she did.
Shane's voice hardened slightly. "I like places with substance."
Clara's smile thinned. "Interesting choice."
The air between them grew thick. After a moment, Clara leaned closer to Shane. "We should talk. About the proposal."
Kiara's breath hitched.
Proposal?
Before she could stop herself, her gaze snapped toward them. Shane noticed—and for the first time since she'd known him, he looked… uncomfortable.
"Not now," he said.
Clara's eyes flicked back to Kiara, a knowing glint there. "Of course. Another time, then."
She turned and left, heels clicking sharply against the floor.
The bell rang.
Silence followed.
Kiara's hands trembled slightly as she reached for a cloth. "You didn't mention you were… involved with someone."
Shane watched her carefully. "I'm not."
Her laugh came out sharper than intended. "She didn't look like a stranger."
"She isn't," he admitted. "She's part of my world. Or… she was."
Kiara's walls shot back up instantly. "Then you should stay in it."
His brows knit together. "Is that what you want?"
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
Because the truth was, she didn't know.
The rest of the day dragged painfully. Customers came and went, but the shop felt different—smaller somehow. The rumors grew louder, the stares more pointed. By closing time, Kiara felt drained, exposed.
Shane waited as she locked the door.
"I didn't come here to complicate your life," he said quietly. "If my presence is causing problems—"
"It's not about problems," she interrupted, exhaustion bleeding into her voice. "It's about balance. About lines. I can't afford to lose control of my life again."
His gaze softened. "You're not losing control, Kiara. You're being offered choices."
She looked away, fighting the sting behind her eyes. "Choices always come with consequences."
They stood there in the fading light, city sounds humming around them. Two people from different worlds, standing at the edge of something neither of them fully understood.
When Shane finally spoke again, his voice was gentle. "I won't push you. About university. About anything."
She nodded slowly. "Thank you."
As he walked away, Kiara pressed her back against the shop door and closed her eyes.
The rumors.
The woman.
The way her heart reacted despite her fear.
This wasn't just about coffee anymore.
Something had shifted.
Something dangerous.
Something that could turn into more—and scare her enough to walk away before it ever did.
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