L
Claire
The first thing Claire heard when she woke up wasn't her alarm—it was rain.
Not the gentle, rhythmic kind that made you want to burrow under the covers. No, this was a steady, insistent downpour, hammering against the windows like it was trying to get in. Fitting, really. Lately, it felt like everything from her past had found a way to seep back through the cracks.
She wrapped her robe tighter and padded to the kitchen. The kettle began to hum, steam curling up into the dim morning light. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at the screen.
A text.
From Ethan.
Ethan:"Coffee? Neutral territory. Noon today?"
She just stood there, staring at it until the kettle clicked off. Neutral territory. As if anywhere could be neutral when the air between them still carried the ghost of that last night together.
The sound of footsteps overhead made her glance up. Vanessa emerged from the loft, hair in a messy bun, eyes still heavy with sleep.
"You're up early," Vanessa mumbled.
"I couldn't sleep."
Vanessa rubbed her eyes. "You saw it, didn't you?"
Claire didn't have to ask what she meant. "Yeah."
Vanessa studied her in silence for a long moment before speaking. "If you go... don't go as the girl who still loves him. Go as the woman who survived him."
Claire forced a smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
But even as she said it, she wasn't sure it was true.
Ethan
The train station café looked different in daylight. Less like the relic of a forgotten town, more like something out of an old movie. The kind where everyone's running from something but pretending they're just here for the coffee.
Ethan sat at a corner table, hands wrapped around a mug that had gone cold twenty minutes ago. Every time the door opened, his heart tripped over itself.
And then—it wasn't Claire.
It was Madison.
She was early, which meant she was here to rattle him before Claire arrived. The sight of her standing there, rain clinging to her coat, felt like a threat wrapped in silk.
"Did you open it?" she asked, sliding into the chair across from him.
"No."
"You should."
He didn't move.
She smirked. "It's amazing what people are willing to believe when the right photograph shows up in the right inbox."
His stomach knotted. "Why are you doing this?"
"You made me a promise in Phoenix. You don't get to break it just because you suddenly want to play the hero."
Before he could respond, the door opened again.
This time—it was Claire.
Claire
The first thing she noticed was how different he looked. Ethan had always been sharp-edged confidence wrapped in charm, but now there was a weariness in his shoulders, a shadow under his eyes. He looked... breakable.
And he wasn't alone.
Her gaze slid to the woman sitting across from him. Striking. Polished. The kind of beauty that made you instantly aware of your own flaws. They were mid-conversation when they noticed her.
Ethan stood quickly. "Claire."
The woman didn't move. She simply looked Claire over, a faint smirk curling at the corner of her mouth.
"Sorry," Claire said, her voice cooler than she felt. "I didn't realize this was a group thing."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "It's not. Madison was just leaving."
Madison's smirk widened. "Was I?"
Claire crossed her arms. "Maybe I should come back another time."
"No," Ethan said sharply, too quickly. "Please. Stay."
The tension between them was a living thing. Claire could feel it in the air, thick and heavy, and it was obvious there was history here—history she didn't know. And that bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
Madison stood, brushing imaginary lint from her sleeve. "We'll finish our chat later, Ethan."
She passed Claire on her way out, leaning in just enough to murmur, "Be careful, flower girl. He breaks what he touches."
Claire stiffened, but Madison was already gone.
Ethan
He could see the storm in Claire's eyes, and he knew Madison had planted something there—some seed of doubt that would bloom into distrust if he wasn't careful.
"Who was she?" Claire asked.
Ethan hesitated. "An old business partner."
"That's vague."
"It's complicated."
"Complicated," she repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it sour. "Right."
He reached for his coffee, just to have something to do with his hands. "I asked you here because I owe you the truth. All of it."
She watched him for a moment, then sat across from him. "Then start talking."
Claire
He told her about Phoenix.
The deal. The pressure. The late nights that blurred into early mornings. The way it had all collapsed, taking his career and his confidence with it. He didn't mention Madison much, but when he did, his jaw flexed in a way that told her there was more to the story than he was saying.
When he was done, she stared at him, trying to reconcile this broken version of him with the man who'd once walked away without a word.
"You could have told me," she said quietly.
"I didn't want you to see me fail."
"Failing isn't the worst thing you can do to someone, Ethan. Disappearing is."
He looked away, his throat working. "I know."
Rain battered the café windows. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he leaned forward, voice low. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I just... I don't want this to be the last time we talk."
She could still feel Madison's warning in her ear. He breaks what he touches.
But God help her, she wanted to hear him out. One more time.
Ethan
When she left, he didn't follow. Not because he didn't want to, but because Madison was waiting outside.
She leaned against her car, umbrella tilted just enough to keep the rain off her face. "She doesn't know. Not yet."
Ethan stepped closer, voice low. "Stay out of this."
Madison smiled like she'd already won. "You and I both know the past has a way of knocking until someone answers."
She got into her car, leaving him standing there in the rain.
And for the first time, Ethan wasn't sure who he was more afraid of losing—Claire... or the truth.