Easier To Pretend.

Daniel’s POV

The airport was loud like it always was. Horns. Engines. Rolling suitcases. A baby crying in the distance. The automatic doors opened and closed every few seconds, letting in cold air from outside.

I stood beside the car, leaning on the door with my hands in my coat pockets. My eyes moved through the crowd. People rushed by—some excited, some tired, all heading somewhere.

Then I saw him.

Elliot.

He walked through the doors with a suitcase dragging behind him and a wide grin on his face. He looked older than when I saw him last. Taller maybe. Or maybe just more grown-up.

But he wasn’t alone.

Beside him was a girl.

She was small and soft-looking. Her black curls bounced gently as she walked. She wore a pale green coat that looked too thin for the weather, but she didn’t seem cold. Her smile was quiet. Her eyes were dark and warm. She didn’t talk much as they walked, but she looked around with curiosity, like everything was worth noticing.

They reached me, and Elliot dropped his suitcase with a loud thud.

“Dad!” he said, pulling me into a quick hug.

I hugged him back, a little tighter than I meant to.

He pulled away and turned toward the girl. “This is Luciana. My girlfriend.”

Luciana stepped forward and offered her hand. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

I shook her hand gently. “Just Daniel is fine.”

She nodded. “Thank you. It’s very nice to be here.”

Her voice had a soft accent. Maybe Spanish. I wasn’t sure, but it was calm and pretty.

Elliot grinned. “We met last semester. She’s in the literature program. She loves books more than I do.”

Luciana smiled shyly. “Only a little more.”

Elliot glanced at my car. “Can we eat before we go home? I’m starving.”

“Of course,” I said, already opening the trunk for his suitcase. “I know a place not too far.”

They climbed in, Luciana in the back seat. Elliot talked the whole drive—about school, classes, his annoying roommate, the weather in Oregon. He didn’t stop for more than a breath.

Luciana only spoke when she laughed or added something sweet like, “He burned pasta. Twice.”

Elliot turned in his seat. “You burned it too!”

She shook her head. “But I didn’t set off the fire alarm.”

They laughed, and I smiled a little. It was easy with them. Light. The kind of energy the house hadn’t had in a long time.

We pulled up to a small restaurant near downtown. It wasn’t fancy, but it was quiet and clean. The kind of place with booths by the window and warm soup on the menu.

We sat down at a corner booth. I took the seat facing the mirror behind Luciana. Elliot sat beside her.

The waitress came and brought menus. Elliot ordered pancakes—of course. Luciana got a salad and soup. I asked for coffee and a sandwich.

As they chatted, I let my eyes wander across the room. There was a mirror behind Luciana. Not fancy—just glass framed in wood, but big enough to see the street outside.

And there, for a second, I saw someone.

A figure walking down the opposite sidewalk. Hoodie up. Shoulders hunched. Slow steps like his feet weighed more than the rest of him.

He didn’t look up.

But even from a distance, even in a reflection, I knew that shape.

River.

My heart jumped, then settled.

No.

It couldn’t be him.

This part of town wasn’t his kind of place. Not this late. Not tonight.

It had to be someone else. Just a stranger with the same walk. Same hoodie. Same weight in his step.

I looked away. Focused on Elliot’s voice instead.

“…and then Luciana made me go to a poetry reading. I don’t even like poetry.”

Luciana sipped her water. “He cried at one of them.”

Elliot groaned. “Don’t tell him that!”

I chuckled. “Cried, huh?”

“It was a sad poem!” Elliot protested. “The guy’s cat died.”

Luciana smiled. “He clapped the loudest too.”

We kept talking. About her hometown, about Elliot’s plans for the next semester. She asked polite questions and listened to every answer like it mattered.

I liked her.

She was soft in the way that lasted. Kind without trying too hard.

We paid the bill and walked out. The cold air bit at our coats as we crossed the parking lot. The street was quiet now. No River in sight. Maybe there never was.

Back at the house, I carried Luciana’s small bag inside while Elliot pulled his suitcase over the steps.

The house felt fuller, warmer, even with just two extra people.

I led them upstairs to the guest room.

It wasn’t fancy. Just a double bed with soft blankets, a lamp, and a window that looked out over the backyard.

“You can stay here,” I said. “Extra towels are in the closet. And if it gets cold, let me know. The heater acts stubborn sometimes.”

Luciana ran her fingers over the quilt. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

Elliot dropped his suitcase and flopped on the bed with a sigh. “I missed being in a place with you.”

I smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

“Where are you going?” he asked as I turned to leave.

“My study,” I said. “I’ve got a few papers to grade before I crash.”

He nodded, already half-asleep.

I closed the door gently and made my way down the hall. The house was quiet now, except for the soft hum of the heater.

In the study, I sank into the leather chair and stared at the desk.

I didn’t open my laptop. I didn’t touch the papers.

Instead, I reached for my phone.

I opened my contacts and scrolled until I found his name.

River Stormhill.

I stared at it.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

I tapped his name.

The message box opened.

I started typing.

Are you home?

Then deleted it.

I tried again.

I saw someone who looks like you. Are you okay?

Deleted that too.

I tried just Hey.

But it looked small. Pointless.

I stared at the blinking cursor for a long time.

Then I locked the screen and set the phone face-down on the desk.

It was easier that way.

To pretend I didn’t care.

To pretend I didn’t see him, alone, walking through a part of town he didn’t belong in, hoodie pulled up like he was trying to disappear.

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes.