𝘼𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙋𝙊𝙑:
Chris shifted on his feet, glancing down at the spilled coffee on the pavement before looking back at me. "At least let me buy you a new one."

I exhaled, shaking my head. "Chris—"

"Come on," he said, cutting me off gently. "It's the least I can do. We'll get a coffee, we'll talk, and if you still want to never see me again after that, fine. But at least let me make it up to you."

I folded my arms, eyeing him skeptically. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you love coffee," he said with a small smirk. "And because, deep down, you're at least a little curious about what I have to say."

I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but... was he?

Because I was curious.

I hated that I was, but I couldn't deny it. If I walked away now, I'd spend the rest of the day wondering what he would've said. And honestly? I was tired of wondering.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "One coffee."

Chris nodded. "One coffee."

"And only because I want one. Not because you deserve to make anything up to me."

His lips twitched. "Of course."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the small, reluctant smile tugging at my lips. "Alright, fine. But if you make it weird, I'm leaving."

"Noted," he said, already turning toward a nearby coffee shop. "Come on, Rae. Coffee's on me."

The coffee shop was quieter than I expected. A few people sat scattered around, hunched over laptops or chatting in hushed voices. The scent of espresso lingered in the air, warm and familiar.

Chris had insisted on ordering, so I stood off to the side, arms folded, watching as he paid and thanked the barista. A few minutes later, he turned, handing me a fresh latte.

"Here," he said. "To replace the one I knocked out of your hand."

I took it, murmuring a small, "Thanks," before finding us a table in the corner.

Chris sat across from me, his own coffee in hand, but neither of us spoke at first. Instead, I watched him, waiting for him to say whatever he apparently needed to say.

I wasn't going to make this easy for him.

Chris exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "I know I fucked up."

I arched a brow. "Yeah, no shit."

He huffed a small, almost amused breath before shaking his head. "I meant to reach out, Avery. I swear I did."

I scoffed. "You meant to? Well, that makes it so much better."

"I'm serious," he said, leaning forward slightly. "After the wedding, I kept thinking about you. About that night. But I didn't text. And the longer I didn't, the harder it felt to do it at all."

I narrowed my eyes. "So, what? You just ghosted me because you were too embarrassed to text after a couple of days?"

Chris winced. "I didn't ghost you."

I gave him a flat look. "Oh, you definitely ghosted me."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, yeah. Maybe I did." He met my eyes then, more serious this time. "But it wasn't because I didn't care, Avery."

I stayed quiet, watching him.

Chris hesitated before speaking again. "That night, when we kissed... it messed with my head a little."

My stomach twisted at his words, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. "Messing with your head—super reassuring, by the way."

He let out a soft, frustrated breath. "I just mean... I didn't expect to feel the way I did when I saw you again. It caught me off guard. And then I convinced myself that maybe I'd made too much of it. That maybe you hadn't thought about it as much as I had."

I blinked. "Chris."

"What?" he asked

"You're an idiot." I spoke

A small, sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, I'm starting to realize that."

I shook my head, staring at him in disbelief. "So, let me get this straight you spent four months avoiding me because you were scared I hadn't been thinking about you?"

He shrugged, looking slightly ashamed. "When you say it like that, it sounds worse."

"That's because it is worse."

Chris sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "I know. And I'm sorry, Avery. I really am. If I could go back and undo it, I would."

I studied him, trying to figure out if I believed him.

And the annoying part?

I did.

He looked genuine—frustrated at himself, regretful, and very aware that he'd handled things terribly.

I wasn't about to let him off the hook completely, but... maybe I wasn't ready to write him off entirely either.

I exhaled, rolling my coffee cup between my hands. "So, what now?"

Chris leaned back in his chair, watching me carefully. "Now, I give you my number."

I furrowed my brows. "Your number?"

He nodded, already pulling out his phone. "So next time I see you, I won't have to DM you."

I stared at him, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. "You're very confident there's gonna be a next time."

Chris smirked, sliding his phone across the table. "That's up to you, Rae."

I hesitated, glancing at the phone in front of me. A part of me wanted to roll my eyes and tell him to piss off. But another part the part that had spent four months wondering why he never texted wasn't ready to walk away.

So, I picked up his phone.

And I saved my number.