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The coffee shop was a small, rustic place; the huge wooden tables and hum of an espresso machine in the background set the atmosphere. Soft chatter from other clients created warmness in the space. Yet, even in this cozy setting, tension sat between Noah and me, an almost invisible barrier that seemed to electrify the air. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as I sat down across from him. In his eyes was some strange intensity that unnerved me—so unlike his usual confidence, his calculation."Noah," I began, my voice steady but cool, "what is it you want to talk about?"He leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly drumming on the table. "We need to discuss Seth."Hearing Seth's name on his lips was a kind of violation in and of itself, reminding me of the hugely complicated situation that the three of us shared. "What about Seth?" I tried to sound as neutral as possible.Noah's gaze speared me, but then I saw a flicker of something unreadable go through his eyes. "I ca
Seth and I walked hand in hand through the park the next evening when the summer air was warm and fragrant with jasmine in full bloom. Overhead was a purpling, orange canvas, the sun sitting low on the horizon. It was one of those moments so rarely found that it looked beyond time, emotionless to the complications of our past. As we walked, all the sounds of laughter and conversation drifted around us, an orchestra of life that, at this moment, bound me to something bigger and infinitely beautiful.Seth squeezed my hand, tugging me a bit closer, and I looked up at him. His features seemed softened by the golden light of dusk; he was smiling, that boyish grin that had first seized upon my heart. "You know," he said, his voice low and intimate, "I don't think I've ever been this happy."I leaned into him, putting my head on his shoulder."Me neither," I admitted. "It feels like a dream sometimes, like I'm going to wake up and it'll all be gone."He turned to me, stopping his walk, his ey
The morning of Anne's baby shower dawned bright and clear, a perfect summer day. I pulled into my parent's driveway early, and the sight of the old Victorian home brought a rush of nostalgia. There was so much that was beautiful about this house, with its wide wraparound porch and its rose bushes tended by Mother with such loving care.Today, it was decked with pink and blue streamers and balloons, with a big banner that read, "Welcome Baby!"I walked in to the smell of freshly baked pastries and coffee filling the air, mixed with floral perfumes from the bouquets everywhere.My parents were busy, doing last-minute touches. Mom turned to me with a big hug, her eyes shining. "Christie, you're here! I'm so glad. Anne's been asking for you."I smiled, wincing at the pang of guilt that jabbed at me for not being around enough lately. "Where is she?""She's in the living room, resting a bit before everybody comes," Mom said. "Why don't you go see her?I weaved my way through the house; it s
The night was quiet, the house bathed in a comforting darkness that had usually kept me calm. It had been a long day that I spent celebrating Anne's baby shower, finally left to my own devices in my childhood bedroom, and surrounded by familiarity. I had just changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed when I heard a soft knock on the door. My heart sank, for I already suspected who it was. Before I could answer, the door creaked open to let Noah slip inside, his presence like a shadow against the dim light from the hallway."Noah," I whispered, my voice tight with frustration. "What are you doing here?"He closed the door behind him softly, his eyes locking with mine; the intensity in them quickened my pulse. "I needed to talk to you," he said, his voice low and urgent.I wrapped my arms tightly around me, trying to hold on to some semblance of control. "We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave."He took a step closer; the sharp lines of determination mixed with a glint of de
I sat on my couch that unnaturally quiet night, holding a mug of herbal tea that was going cold. I had been off all day, feeling some sort of gnawing anxiety inside me that I couldn't shake. Seth was supposed to come over after work, and all day I had looked forward to seeing him and hoped his presence might soothe my restless mind. Earlier, I had tried to call him, needing his voice, needing to tell him how much I needed him, but all my calls went directly to voicemail. I told myself maybe he was driving and would soon be here. The feeling was uneasy, sitting in the pit of my stomach.As the hours trudged on and the clock crept ever closer to midnight, concern began to give way to fear. I began flipping through the channels of the TV, looking for a distraction, but nothing seemed to interest me. My mind kept reverting back to Seth. I had dialed his phone number so many times, hoping against hope that I perhaps had missed his call or he had sent a text, but nothing was there. There was
Days since Seth's accident had drifted by in a blur of hospital visiting hours, sleepless nights, and helplessness that just wouldn't leave. I held vigil hour by hour at his bedside, holding his hand, and praying for his recovery. His condition was stable, they said, but he wasn't really improving, and not knowing was tearing my heart apart. Every time I left the hospital, my apartment seemed unbearably empty and lifeless, so very opposite of the big, full-of-love home Seth and I had been building together.It was on one of those lonely nights after I had returned home from another long day at the hospital, that I heard somebody knock on my door. My heart jumped with that fleetingly hopeful thought that maybe, just maybe, it was Seth, miraculously recovered and back on his feet. Instead, it was Noah, his face a mix of concern and something else indefinable."Noah," I said, surprise and confusion plain in my voice. "What brings you here?"He didn't wait for an invitation but stepped ins
The call from my parents had come early in the morning, a brusque and abrupt summons that brooked no argument."Come home tonight," my father said. "There's something important we need to discuss."There was a tone in his voice that sent a shiver down my spine, but I didn't have the energy to argue. I needed to keep my focus on Seth's recovery, not whatever new drama my parents had dreamed up.By evening, I stood at the front door of my childhood home, with a weight of anxieties from that day weighing on my skin. The house looked the same as it had, yet there was something cold in it. I pushed open the door, and the smell of my mother's cooking hit me—familiar, yet filling me with dread."Christie, you're here," my mother called from the kitchen. Her voice was tight, flat-not welcoming."Yeah, I'm here," I returned, working on a smile as I entered the dining room. "What's so urgent?"My father was already seated at the head of the table, his expression light. "Sit down, Christie," he s
The day Seth finally came home was one of happiness, relief, and some residual apprehension. I had planned everything to the last detail and wanted everything to be perfect for his return. Fresh flowers were in the living room, perfuming the atmosphere well with their fragrance, which combined well with the aroma of the meal I had cooked all morning. The apartment was warm and inviting, a far cry from the antiseptic and impersonal feel of the hospital where he had spent many weeks.When Seth walked through the door, his strides were slower, more deliberate; but that same smile greeted me—among those that I had fallen in love with. I rushed to him, wrapping my arms gingerly around him since his injuries still needed time to heal. "Welcome home," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion."Good to be home," he said, and he squeezed me close. "I have missed you so much, Christie."Afternoon time merged into a haze of catch-up—so much had been missed. We laughed, reminisced, and enjoyed th