Jay Mariano entered the quiet café, her steps measured, heart steady. She spotted him instantly—Mark Keifer Watson—sitting by the window, tall, composed, every inch the man she remembered from five years ago.
Her breath caught for a fraction of a second, memories flashing unbidden. She forced herself to straighten, to stay calm.
Keifer looked up just as she approached. His sharp eyes met hers, holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary.
"Jay," he said finally, voice low and precise.
"Keifer," she replied evenly, seating herself across from him.
A silence stretched between them, neither speaking, both measuring, both aware of the years and the distance.
"You look… well," Keifer said finally, voice neutral but carrying an edge of curiosity.
Jay's lips twitched in a faint smile. "I do my best. And you?"
"Same," he said simply, leaning back slightly, hands clasped in front of him. His eyes didn't waver. "Five years… it hasn't changed much, has it?"
Jay felt a pang at the reminder of the past. She remembered the night she left, the sudden decision to walk away without explanation. Guilt flickered, but she masked it carefully. "Time moves fast," she said lightly. "And people… change."
Keifer studied her silently, unreadable as ever. He didn't ask why she had left, didn't bring up the past. His restraint was almost unbearable, and yet… it made her pulse quicken.
"I didn't expect to see you here," she added after a moment, keeping her tone casual.
"Neither did I," he replied, voice steady. Then, after a pause, he added, "But… here we are."
Jay nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. The words she wanted to say—the apologies, the explanations—remained unspoken. She chose calm. She chose control.
Keifer didn't press, didn't comment. His eyes, however, followed her every movement, analyzing, assessing, as if nothing about her could escape his notice.
For a few long minutes, they sat like that—two people, familiar yet distant, each carrying years of unspoken feelings, each careful not to give too much away.
Finally, Jay leaned back, exhaling softly. "So… this is us. After five years."
Keifer's gaze didn't waver. "Yes. This is us."
A silence followed, heavy with everything unsaid, but in that quiet, both understood: nothing had truly ended. The past had shaped them, but the present—this meeting, this moment—was theirs to navigate.
And though neither spoke of it aloud, the tension, the memory, the unspoken connection hung in the air, stronger than any words could capture.