Noah didn't expect the vibration in his pocket to mean anything.
The café was closing, the chairs flipped, his playlist humming low in the background. He wiped down the last table before finally glancing at his phone.
One notification.
One message.
From her.
> I haven't stopped thinking about you.
He stood there, unmoving, like time had paused just for him. His heart beat like it was trying to remember how.
He read it again.
And again.
Then, he sat in the quiet café, in the chair where she once scolded him for over-sweetening her coffee, and finally let himself feel it—hope. Raw, trembling hope.
He didn't reply. Not yet. Because he wasn't ready to say what he needed to in a message.
---
Across the ocean, Mira stared at her phone.
No reply.
She told herself she didn't care.
But her hands trembled anyway.
The next few days blurred together in a haze of meetings, flights, and flashing cameras. But she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't breathe properly. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart leapt—and crashed.
Until it finally came.
> Are you free next weekend? I think we need to talk. In person.
Her throat tightened. She almost dropped the phone.
Next weekend.
Back in the country.
Back to him.
She didn't respond immediately. She just stood by the mirror in her hotel suite, staring at her reflection. She looked like someone else now—polished, glamorous, successful.
But underneath it all, she was still the girl who fell in love over burnt coffee and bad weather.
---
One week later.
The airport buzzed with life.
Mira stepped through the arrivals gate, her heels clicking softly, her heart louder than the crowd.
And there he was.
Noah, leaning against a pillar, holding a coffee in each hand.
He hadn't changed much. Same tired eyes. Same crooked smile.
But when their eyes met, it was like the world finally exhaled.
He walked toward her, handed her the coffee—extra cinnamon, no foam.
She smiled, the kind that meant everything and nothing at once.
"I didn't think you'd actually come," he said.
"I almost didn't," she whispered. "But I'm tired of running."
They didn't hug. They didn't kiss. Not yet.
But they stood there in the middle of a crowd, closer than ever.
And for the first time in a long time, both of them believed—maybe this time, love would finally get it right.