Chapter 3: Ghosts and Glances
Rain drizzled down the city's shoulders that night, soft and persistent, like a memory that wouldn't go away. Ethan walked beside Claire under a narrow awning, the glow of passing headlights reflecting in puddles between their footsteps.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
"You okay?" Claire finally asked.
Ethan glanced at her. "Me? Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You went quiet again. After Ben left."
He hesitated. "Didn't expect my coffee date to include a plot twist."
She exhaled. "I didn't expect to see him either."
"You two still talking?"
"No. Not really," she said. "We ended it… whatever it was… a while ago. He wanted more. I didn't. Now he's engaged to someone in finance."
Ethan smirked. "Of course he is."
They reached her apartment building—brick walls and ivy creeping up the side like it was trying to reach the sky. She paused at the door.
"I had fun," she said. "In a chaotic, inconvenient kind of way."
"That's my specialty," Ethan replied.
Claire lingered for a beat too long. Ethan noticed. He leaned slightly closer, but not enough to push. Just enough to ask.
And that's when her phone buzzed.
She fumbled it out of her pocket. A name flashed: Ben.
Claire's face shifted—just slightly, but enough. Enough for Ethan to see something unsure behind her usually sharp gaze.
"You should take that," he said, stepping back.
Claire looked up. "Ethan…"
"I'll see you around, Claire."
He turned before she could answer and disappeared into the blur of rain and neon.
---
Three Days Later
Ethan hadn't texted her.
Claire told herself she didn't care. She had deadlines, meetings, clients. But somehow, every time her phone buzzed, her heart flipped for no reason—and then sank.
She didn't even know him. Not really. And yet, the silence felt louder than it should have.
She found herself at Ink & Ivy, the little café they'd shared, hoping for clarity. But instead of peace, she found Ben—already sitting inside, waiting with that familiar half-smile.
"I figured you'd be here," he said.
Claire sighed. "So what is this? Nostalgia week?"
Ben chuckled. "I just want to talk."
She didn't sit. "About what?"
"About how I never stopped thinking about you," he said plainly. "And how I hate that some stranger—who crashed your coffee—is taking up the space I used to fill."
Claire froze.
"Ben…" she began, but before she could finish, the bell above the café door jingled.
Ethan.
He walked in, rain in his hair, expression unreadable—until he saw them. Claire. And Ben. Together.
Ethan's smile didn't fade. But it hardened.
"Well," he said coolly. "Looks like I just walked into a familiar triangle."