Shadows of the past

It had been seven months since Ethan left me.

At first, I didn’t handle it well. He kicked me out, and I had nowhere to stay. My apartment had been in his name too, so I had nothing but a few bags of clothes. My best friend, mara, insisted I move in with her. She has a small tiny apartment in the city, the one she had been renting since college, she made me move in with her.

I avoided the small juice bar. Mara and I had called it The Corner Loft after a late-night brainstorming session fueled by too many smoothies and laughter. Ethan had celebrated there when he landed his first big record deal. I couldn’t bring myself to step inside.

Then Mara had enough. She called me a hopeless mess, said I was crying over a selfish man, and practically shoved me back into my routine. Breaking thirteen years of old habits hasn’t been easy.

Some nights, I still catch myself staring at my phone, waiting for a message that will never come. Waiting for Ethan to say he made a mistake, waiting for him to say it was a joke, that he wants me back.

But he never does. Not even in my dreams.

It’s Saturday, and I’m at the café. The new music season is about to kick off. I know because I memorized Ethan’s tour dates months ago. Back then, I scheduled my days around his, making sure we spent every possible moment together.

Now, the only reason I still follow the music scene is Mara. She’s been extra busy lately.

She’s a talent manager for the New York Echoes, the band Ethan had always dreamed of joining. Instead, he ended up signing with the Los Angeles Crescendos, which had been a tough pill for both of us.

Those months had been brutal for us. He was frustrated with how things turned out, and I ended up bearing the brunt of it. It took everything I had to keep us from falling apart.

I shake off the memory and take the second tray of muffins out of the oven. Just as I set them down, the bell above the door chimes, and I can’t help but smile.

The Millers live across the street. They stop by every morning for a quick chat, and I always make sure to have a small drink or snack ready for them.

“Good morning, Miss Lyra!” Toby, their little boy, beams up at me, his freckles lighting up his cheeks. He holds his father’s hand, swinging it back and forth.

My heart melts. “Good morning, Toby. Mr Miller. What about your wife?”

Mr. Miller smiles proudly. “She gave birth to twins yesterday. We’re here to grab something for her. She specifically asked for your smoothies.”

It felt like Mrs. Miller had been pregnant forever. In reality, she had been expecting the babies for fourteen months now.

She used to sit in my juice bar, watching me mix drinks and smoothies, complaining about how tired and uncomfortable she felt. All she wanted was a healthy, happy babies. The doctors said the long pregnancy was unusual, but there was nothing to worry about.

Hearing the news, I couldn’t hide my excitement. I let out a squeal, and Toby giggled.

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!” I beamed. “I’ll grab some fresh smoothies right away. I also made a few juice shots! It’s almost like I knew something wonderful was coming!”

Toby nodded excitedly. “I have twin little brothers now! They’re tiny and squishy, and Mum says all babies look like that.”

“That’s not very nice to say, Toby,” Mr. Miller said gently as I quickly packed up a few fresh juice shots and smoothies for Mrs. Miller.

“But it’s true!” Toby pouted, crossing his arms.

He looked at me for support. “ Miss Lyra, tell Dad I’m right!”

I hand the drinks and juice shots to Mr. Miller, then place a hand on my hip and ruffle Toby’s hair. “I agree with your dad. They might be tiny and a little squishy, but they’re still your brothers. And as their big brother, it’s your job to look out for them. Especially from anyone who teases them.”

Toby lets out an exaggerated groan. “That’s going to be so hard.”

Mr. Miller chuckles. “Welcome to being a big brother.”

I smile as I watch them. Moments like this remind me that not all relationships fall apart. Some families really do stay happy.

But for some reason, my own relationships never seem to last. No matter how much I give, it’s never enough.

I wave at the Millers as they leave, their happiness lingering in the air like the sweet scent of fresh fruit from the bar. I wanted what they had—a family that cared for each other.

But after what I did five years ago, I knew I didn’t have a family to go back to. My parents hadn’t called in months, and my sister barely acknowledged I existed.

It used to hurt less when I told myself I deserved it, that this was the price for my mistakes. And no matter how much I lost, I thought I’d always have Ethan.

But I even failed at that.

I felt so useless. I couldn’t even be the kind of woman Ethan wanted to marry. Everything I touched seemed to crumble, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.

My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen—Mara. The tight knot in my chest loosens the moment I hear her voice.

“You’re not hiding on my couch again, are you?” she teases, her tone so skeptical that I can’t help laughing.

“No, Mara. I’m at the juice bar. I even made you a few fresh drinks.”

Just then, the bell above the door jingles, and in walks Mara, holding up her phone with a triumphant grin. “Well, thank God for small mercies.”

Mara and I have been best friends since our freshman year of college.

It was a rough time for me. I had followed Ethan to Chicago because he wanted me there, but I struggled to fit in. He never liked me having too many friends, so I wasn’t used to having someone who wasn’t him to lean on. Then I met Mara in an art history class.

Mara never liked Ethan, and back then I resented her for it. But no matter how many arguments we had about him, she never walked away from me.

She’s striking in a way that makes people stop and stare—platinum blonde hair that shines like sunlight, sharp green eyes that miss nothing, and legs so long they look carved for runways. She’s everything I’m not.

Her skin is porcelain-pale, mine carries a warm brown glow. Her hair falls in sleek, perfect lines, while mine coils into a wild mess of curls. She has the kind of curves women envy, while I’ve always been self-conscious about the ones I lack. Her eyes are unforgettable; mine are… just brown.

Standing next to her, I’ve always felt ordinary—not just in appearance, but in the way I move through life.

When she told Ethan she was determined to build a career in music publicity, he laughed and said she was wasting her time. Now she’s thriving, representing rising artists and making a name for herself in the industry, while I’m still standing here, trying to figure out where my path is leading.

Before Ethan, I used to dream of opening an art gallery, but he brushed it off as unimportant. Later, when this juice bar came into my life, I loved it with everything I had, though deep down I wondered if Ethan only encouraged it to keep me safely tied to his plans.

Mara steps closer, throws her arms around me, and plants noisy kisses on my cheek until I’m giggling. She’s always been like this. Open, warm, impossible not to love.

Then she slumps against my back with a sigh. “You are not going to believe what just happened.”