SHADOWS OF THE PAST

San Francisco shimmered under the afternoon sun, golden and hazy through the slight coastal fog. Ava walked briskly along the streets near the café she now called her temporary workplace, the tote bag swinging against her hip. She still couldn't quite believe she had landed a job at Harbor Light Books-a cozy, sun-drenched space that smelled of coffee, old paper, and something she didn't know how to name: possibility.

It had been two weeks since she'd come to the city, and already life seemed different. Brighter. More open.

And more complicated.

Ethan had called every day: to check in after her first, to text and ask how she was settling in, to offer to meet for a casual dinner. Ava had been hesitant, uneasy with the speed of their budding intimacy, but there was something in him—his patience, his gentle persistence, the quiet warmth in his eyes—that made her feel safe. For the first time in years, she didn’t feel like she was walking through life alone.

Today, they had agreed to meet for coffee before his “business meeting.” Ethan had been elusive concerning the meeting itself, only saying it was important and that he wanted her to be there for moral support. Ava hadn't pressed. Some things, she figured, were his to share in his own time.

She reached the café first and ordered a cappuccino. As she waited, her eyes wandered toward the street below, teeming with life: tourists fumbling over maps, street performers at work twirling hula hoops, and office workers striding with purpose. She sipped her coffee, enjoying the warmth, when her phone buzzed.

Ethan: Outdoors. Black coat, navy scarf. Don't be late. ????

Ava smiled, a little flutter rising in her chest. Within minutes, he appeared, towering over most of the pedestrians around him, exuding that quiet confidence she had come to recognize. His dark hair caught the light of the afternoon sun, and the soft curve of his smile made her heart lift.

“Sorry I'm late,” she said as he approached.

“You’re right on time, actually,” he said, lowering his sunglasses. “I like it when people are punctual.”

Ava chuckled. “I am usually late, but today I was motivated.”

He offered her his arm and she took it, laughing again as they strolled side by side. Ethan's presence always had a grounding effect on her; even in the crowded streets of San Francisco, she felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of them.

They walked a few blocks from the waterfront to a quiet little café. Ethan nodded toward a window-side table and they sat down. He gazed reflectively at her over the rim of his coffee cup.

“So,” he said, leaning back slightly, “how’s the job? I hope Harbor Light is treating you well.”

“It is,” Ava replied, eyes bright. “I love it. The people are kind, the atmosphere is… safe. I feel like I can breathe here.”

Ethan smiled, but there was a shadow behind it, a faint tension in his jaw. “I’m glad. You deserve to feel that way.”

Ava cocked her head. “You sound… distant. Something wrong?"

He hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of his cup. "It's complicated. Work things. Nothing for you to worry about."

She frowned slightly. "You can tell me, you know. I'm not afraid of complicated."

He gave her a long, quiet look, and she saw it-the flicker of vulnerability he so rarely let anyone witness. But before he could speak further, his phone buzzed. He glanced down, and his expression stiffened.

“I’ll have to take this,” he said, standing. “Wait here, okay?”

Ava nodded, despite the unease coiling in her stomach.

A few minutes later, Ethan returned, but the tension hadn’t lifted; it had deepened.

“We need to go,” he said abruptly. “Something has come up. It’s… serious.”

Ava frowned, alarmed. "What is it?"

He hesitated, then shook his head. “I can’t explain everything right now. But I promise, it’s not your fault.”

Before she could ask anymore, a black car pulled up outside the café. A woman stepped out, tall and strikingly beautiful, impossibly composed. Her hair was dark and straight, her suit impeccable. Ava felt immediately the shift in Ethan’s demeanor.

"Serena," he said. His voice was low.

The woman turned, her eyes raking over Ava as if sizing her up. For a fleeting moment, Ava had felt like an intruder in a world she hadn’t known existed.

“Ethan,” Serena said smoothly, but her eyes flicked to Ava. “I didn’t expect… company.”

Ethan’s jaw firmed up. “Serena. Not now.”

Serena smiled, somewhat too perfectly. "Oh, I think it is. We need to talk about some. unfinished business."

Ava swallowed hard. She had heard the name “Serena” in passing when Ethan’s tone had subtly changed in phone conversations, but she had never imagined meeting her face-to-face—and certainly not so soon.

Ethan's hand brushed hers briefly under the table, grounding her. She felt his fingers tighten slightly, a silent promise that he had no intention of letting her be intimidated.

“I'll wait outside,” Ava whispered.

“No,” Ethan said right away. “Stay. You must hear this too.”

Her heart hammered, but she remained. Serena’s gaze lingered on her again, scrutinising, judging, and Ava felt a pang of insecurity. She had never been a woman used to competing for attention, and she felt painfully aware of the contrast between herself and Serena, the way Serena carried herself like she was on top of the world.

Serena's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Ethan, I need to talk to you about the merger. There are some investors asking questions, and I need your approval by the end of the week.

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "That merger is on my schedule. I've already made decisions that affect your plans. We can talk later-privately. Not here.

Serena cocked her head, a cool, almost predatory smile playing on her lips. "We shall see, Ethan. People need answers now. And some of those answers… involve her."

Ava froze, the word "her" ringing in her head like a bell.

"Excuse me?" Ethan asked sharply.

"You heard me," Serena said. Her gaze flicked to Ava again. "You're… very charming, Ava. I hope you realise that your presence here complicates things."

Ava's stomach dropped. "Complicates. What?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," Serena said smoothly. "It's just business."

But the subtext-thewarning-was crystal clear.

Ethan's hand moved to rest over hers again, protective. "Ava, listen. Serena… she's my past. She has influence. She's going to try to interfere."

Ava's heart was pounding. "Interfere… how?"

Ethan let out a slow breath. "She is persistent, powerful, and does not take no for an answer. But I promise you… I will not let her hurt us."

Her chest tightened. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe in them. But the sudden threat, the strain in his voice, and Serena's icy stare had pulled her stomach into knots.

Finally, Serena straightened, turning toward the door. “We’ll speak soon, Ethan.” She paused, eyes narrowing at Ava once more. “Make sure she’s ready.”

Then she was gone, slipping into the sleek black car and disappearing into the city traffic.

The café suddenly felt small and quiet; the cozy warmth replaced by electric tension.

Ethan leaned across the table and took both her hands. “Are you okay?”

Ava nodded, swallowing hard. “I will be. I just… didn’t expect this.”

He gave a short, reassuring squeeze. “I didn’t either. But I want you to know—I don’t care what she does. You’re not going anywhere. Not without me.”

Something in her chest unclenched. His confidence, his certainty-it was tangible, comforting, and real.

“I trust you,” she said softly.

“And I trust you,” he replied. “More than you know.”

They sat for a moment, wordless, while the city hummed around them. The sun dropped further and the warm light spilled over the table, placating the tension into something more bearable.

In that instant, Ava realized that love, in all its newness and fragility, was powerful. The presence of an antagonist, the looming challenges, the uncertainties-they didn't erase it, only made the bond stronger, sharper, more vital.

“I want to show you something,” Ethan said suddenly, standing and offering his hand.

Ava took it, and he led her out of the café, past the busy streets, and toward the waterfront. The Golden Gate Bridge loomed in the distance, painted gold by the late afternoon sun.

They walked side by side, a silent understanding between them. Ava knew there would be storms ahead-challenges she hadn't imagined. But as she looked at Ethan, she felt a clarity she hadn't known she was capable of:

If they could face the city together, if they could face each other, maybe… they could face anything.

And somewhere in the distance, the black car vanished down the street. But for now, Ava only had eyes for Ethan.