. ..Chapter One
Julian was already sitting in my seat when I walked in.
Not just a seat.
My seat.
The one I always sat in. The one angled perfectly toward the window. The one that didn't wobble when you leaned back. The one he had absolutely no business occupying like this café had personally assigned it to him.
He was leaning back comfortably, one ankle resting on his knee, scrolling through his phone like a man with no enemies. His jacket was slung over the back of the chair, his coffee already half-finished, like he'd been here long enough to establish territory.
I stopped in front of him and stared.
He didn't look up.
"You're in my seat," I said.
Nothing.
"Julian."
Still nothing.
I leaned closer. "Julian."
He sighed, slow and dramatic, finally lifting his head. "Good morning, Elise. You're late."
"I'm not late," I said. "You're early. And in my chair."
He glanced down at the chair, then back at me. "This chair?"
"Yes. That chair."
"The chair in a public café?"
"The chair I've sat in every single time we've come here for the past two years."
He smiled lazily. "Two years is a long time. Sounds serious."
"Move."
"In a minute."
"That wasn't a suggestion."
He checked his phone again. "I'm replying to someone."
"You've been replying since before I arrived."
"It's an important conversation."
"Is someone dying?"
"No."
"Is someone proposing?"
"No."
"Then move."
He finally stood, but instead of stepping away, he moved closer, just enough to be annoying. "You could've just asked nicely."
"I did ask nicely."
"You accused me of theft."
"Because you stole my chair."
He laughed and stepped aside at last. I slid into my seat immediately, dropping my bag onto it like he might try again.
"You're unbearable," I said.
"And yet," he replied, pulling out the chair beside me, "you still meet me here every week."
"That's because no one else tolerates you for more than forty minutes."
"Ouch," he said, pressing a hand to his chest. "I thought we had something special."
I reached for my coffee and frowned. "Why is this not my drink?"
He looked at the cup. Then at me. "Because last time you ordered wrong and pretended you liked it."
"I did not order wrong."
"You whispered your order like you were confessing something."
"That was anxiety."
"That was suspicious behavior."
I shook my head. "You're impossible."
"And you're predictable," he said, sliding my actual drink toward me. "There. Fixed."
I stared at it. "How did you know?"
"You hesitate before drinking if it's wrong," he said. "You stare at it like it personally disappointed you."
"That's not a thing."
"It absolutely is. You also tap your fingers when you're annoyed."
I stopped tapping immediately. "Stop studying me."
He laughed. "Too late."
From the corner of my eye, I noticed two girls near the counter whispering. One of them glanced over, nudged the other, and smiled.
I sighed. "They think we're dating."
Julian followed my gaze and grinned. "Again?"
"Always."
"One day we should just agree and see how long it takes before someone starts planning our engagement."
"I would rather relocate."
"That feels extreme."
"You've met your mother."
He laughed. "Fair."
I took a sip of my coffee. "So. How was your date?"
He groaned. "She asked about my five-year plan."
"That's normal."
"Not when we were still choosing appetizers."
I smiled. "Did you answer?"
"I said I planned to survive the week."
"And?"
"She didn't laugh."
"That's tragic."
"What about you?" he asked. "You had a date too, right?"
I shrugged. "He explained a movie I had already seen."
Julian winced. "Unforgivable."
"I left early."
"As you should."
There was a pause then. Comfortable. Easy. The kind that didn't need filling.
Julian reached for my fries without asking.
"Absolutely not," I said, pulling the plate closer.
"You weren't eating them."
"I was saving them."
"For what?"
"For later."
"You don't save fries."
"Yes, I do."
"No, you don't."
I stared at him. "You're impossible."
"And you love it," he said.
I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself.
That was when a shadow fell across the table.
"Well," a voice said, amused. "This is familiar."
I looked up. Julian did too.
Maya stood there with a coffee in hand, eyebrows raised, clearly enjoying herself.
"What is?" Julian asked.
Maya gestured between us. "This. The married-couple energy."
"We are not married," I said immediately.
"Yet," Julian added.
I kicked his leg under the table.
Maya laughed and pulled out the chair across from us without asking. "See? That. Exactly that."
"Can you not encourage him?" I said.
"I'm not encouraging," she replied. "I'm observing."
Julian leaned back. "She takes notes."
"I absolutely do," Maya said. "I have a group chat."
My eyes widened. "You have a what?"
"A group chat," she repeated cheerfully. "About you two."
Julian brightened. "I knew it."
"Why does everyone have a group chat about us?" I asked.
"Because you give us content," Maya said. "Daily."
She glanced at the fries. "Are those being guarded?"
"Yes."
She nodded. "Healthy boundary."
Julian smirked. "She only does this when she's pretending not to care."
"I care," I said. "About my fries."
Maya sipped her coffee, eyes moving between us. "So are we still pretending this is just friendship, or have we entered the denial phase?"
"We're not pretending anything," I said.
Julian nodded. "We're very honest."
"Julian," Maya said, "you once held her bag for forty-five minutes while she tried on shoes."
"That was situational."
"And you," she turned to me, "know his coffee order better than he does."
"That's basic observation."
She smiled. "Sure."
I leaned back. "Why are you here?"
"To witness," she said happily. "And to remind you that people are watching."
As if on cue, one of the girls from the counter glanced over again.
Julian waved.
I buried my face in my hands. "This is my life."
Maya laughed. "Relax. It's cute."
"It is not cute."
"She says that every time," Julian said.
Maya stood, adjusting her bag. "Alright. I'll leave you two to whatever this is."
She paused. "But when you finally admit it, I expect credit."
"There is nothing to admit," I said.
She smiled. "Sure."
And just like that, she walked away, laughter trailing behind her.
Julian looked at me. "See? Completely normal."
I stared after Maya, then back at him. "I hate everyone."
He laughed. "You love us."
I didn't answer.
But I smiled.