CHAPTER TWELVE

MAXEN

"You still haven't answered my question," I said, folding my arms across my chest, keeping my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my gut. Ryan always had that effect—like stepping into a familiar storm you thought had passed for good.

He blinked, placing a dramatic hand over his chest like I'd just delivered a fatal blow.

"Oh, my poor heart," he gasped, his voice cracking with theatrical grief. "Is this how my first love greets me after years of loyal companionship?"

I raised an eyebrow. He dabbed at fake tears with a napkin he must've swiped from a nearby table.

"If I didn't know you so well," he said, sniffing, "I'd think you didn't want me here."

"Because you showed up unannounced," I replied coolly. "And because I do know you, Ryan. You don't show up without a reason. What are you really doing in Aurelia Bay?"

Something shifted. His smile dimmed—not gone, just softened—as he met my gaze.

"I missed you, Max," he said quietly. "I couldn't sleep. So I came looking."

The weight of his words settled between us. For a second, I didn't know how to respond. Then I sighed and pushed myself off the stool.

"I don't have time for your games today."

As I turned toward the backroom, Ryan's fingers curled around my wrist—lightly, but enough to halt me.

"Okay, okay," he relented, voice casual again. "I'm in town for a gig. Some artsy event downtown. A short stint, really. But seriously—this café..." He let go of my wrist and glanced around.

"You've really done it, huh? This place—" He gestured at the hanging lights, the warm wood, the gentle hum of jazz spilling from the speakers. "You always said you wanted somewhere that felt like home. Cozy. A place where anyone could walk in and feel like they belonged."

His tone softened. "You've done it, Max. You made it real."

I paused. There was something real in his voice, something buried under the theatrics.

I gave him a nod. "Thanks."

"It's a nice place," he added. "Colm would be proud."

We stood there for a moment—years of shared history flickering between us like static.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, letting the weight of goodbye creep in.

"Anyway, it was good seeing you again. I really did miss you. But hey, since you clearly don't remember me the same way... at least I taught you the ropes, right? Especially when you were—"

"Ryan—" I said, a warning edge in my voice.

He grinned wickedly. "Touching yourself and thinking of me. Got it. Message received. I'll see myself out."

And just like that, he turned and walked away, no room for a comeback, leaving behind the scent of espresso and old chaos.

My mom walked in from the storeroom, arms full of napkins.

"So... he just left?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"He's random like that," I said with a shrug.

"He seemed... lonely," she murmured, more to herself than to me.

I snorted. "Mom, that guy is a social butterfly. You don't get lonelier than him."

She gave me that look—the one that stripped past my words and made me feel like I'd missed something obvious. But we didn't linger. The lunch crowd was already trickling in.

Still, even as I returned to the espresso machine, part of me lingered at the door Ryan had walked through.

That was the thing about Ryan—he never left without leaving something behind. And though I'd dismissed him, there was an ache of familiarity in his presence I hadn't expected to feel.

I shook it off and reached for my phone.

Snapping a photo of Adrian's favorite coffee blend, I added two rolls beside it—soft, warm, familiar.

Me: Thought you'd appreciate your usual.

Rian: [😋]

Me: You've got to eat. You'll need the energy later.

Rian: Okay. Miss you.

Me: Miss you too.

I exhaled, my shoulders easing without me realizing they'd been tense.

A small smile tugged at my lips—soft and certain. Adrian always had a way of grounding me, of stitching peace into the frayed edges of my day.

Ryan might've been a ghost from my past...

But Adrian? He was my present. My clarity. My home.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and turned toward the growing line of customers, warmth blooming quietly in my chest.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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