Miranda told herself she needed space.
Space to think. Space to breathe. Space to regain control over her wildly uncooperative heart.
But the truth was far less poetic: She needed space because being near Raphael made her feel too much.
Too alive.
Too seen.
Too wanted.
And she didn't know how to survive that kind of wanting again without losing everything. So she made a plan, a simple plan that was guaranteed to fail.
The first step was to avoid the front counter when Raphael walked in, the the second Step, to send Sandra to take his order. Third step she would stay in the kitchen and pretend to be busy, fourth step she would not make eye contact. Ever.
And then the last Step; Under no circumstances should she think about, Last night. The kiss, His hands and his voice saying her name like it was a secret he intended to keep.
If she followed these steps, she should be safe. Emotionally, Physically and Life-choices safe. but of course, the universe had a reputation for laughing at Miranda's plans.
Day 1 of Avoidance was officially underway, and Miranda hadn't seen Raphael yet. The café was halfway full when the bell chimed softly. Miranda felt him before she saw him.
That warm, quiet pull through her chest, like someone tugging gently on a string tied around her ribs. She stiffened behind the espresso machine.
Sandra started to greet the new arrival, but her voice changed halfway through: "Oh, hi again! Your usual?"
Miranda didn't even need to look. It was him. Of course it was him.
She kept her gaze locked on the milk frother, Her pulse hammered, Her fingers felt clumsy. Her spine locked into a too-straight line, she hated how she was acting like a teenager who had just seen crush but she could feel his eyes searching for her and she held her breath.
When Sandra began preparing his drink, Miranda exhaled with relief [Good. Safe distance maintained.] But then,
"Good morning, Miranda."
Her whole body jolted. She turned, and he was there, standing at the edge of the counter, offering her the softest smile she had ever seen.
She swallowed. She was so busy trying to keep her mind off him that she didn't even notice him approaching. "H-hi."
"You weren't in front," he said, voice low, gentle, observational. Not accusatory.
"I'm busy," she muttered. She wasn't but that was the best she could come up with at the moment, moreover she didn't know why she felt she had to give an excuse even if it was a false one.
He nodded slowly… as if he understood anyway.
"I won't keep you." then he paused before continuing "But I wanted to say hello."
And then he stepped back. He gave her space again. Which only made her chest hurt more. She didn't meet his eyes as he took his drink and left quietly. When the door closed behind him, the air felt heavier instead of lighter.
Sandra glanced at her. "Um… did something happen with that guy?"
Miranda forced a smile. "No. Nothing."
But everything was happening.
Mission: Avoidance was officially in its second day. So far, she still felt uncomfortable after what happened the day before, ever since yesterday the feeling of unease had settled in her heart.
He returned again today, at the exact same time with the exact same calm expression and the exact same soft presence that unsettled her no matter how still he stood.
Miranda hid in the kitchen, She was pretending to inventory spoons when she heard Sandra laugh.
"Your boss didn't come out today." The sound of Raphael's voice drifted over.
Miranda froze, she felt jealous, it should have been her laughing with him. His voice continued, warm and amused: "She's avoiding me."
Her stomach dropped. He knew. Of course he knew.
Sandra giggled. "You think so?"
"I'm sure of it." he replied.
Miranda nearly dropped an entire box of cutlery.
She felt uneasy upon realizing that her plans had been uncovered; it would have been much simpler if he had remained unaware. Now, she was uncertain about how to act around him.
Then she heard Sandra ask, "Want me to call her over?"
"No." His answer was immediate. "If she doesn't want to see me, I won't force it."
Something in Miranda's chest twisted sharply. She slowly stepped into the hallway and peeked through the doorway, Raphael was looking at his drink, his expression soft but undeniably sad. He didn't look angry or offended, Just… disappointed, Like he was missing something he had hoped for, before she could retreat, his eyes lifted and landed right on hers.
Miranda felt a surge of tension.
He did not try to make any lighthearted remarks, nor did he attempt to move closer. Instead, he simply maintained eye contact for a fleeting, tender moment. A faint smile appeared on his lips, and then he acknowledged her with a simple nod. He turned and walked away after paying for his drink leaving Miranda with an even heavier, inexplicable feeling in her chest.
That night, Miranda lay in bed staring at the ceiling again.
Sleep didn't come.
Instead came the thoughts she didn't want; His smile, His patience. His voice. The way he touched her hand was something sacred. The way he didn't push. Didn't demand nor did he guilt trip her. The way he gave her space, she even remembered his eyes, the way he dresses and how he walked in a smooth and graceful flow.
She rolled onto her stomach and groaned into the pillow.
"This isn't fair…"
It should've been easier, She should've been stronger. She should've closed the door in her heart and sealed it shut but instead she felt… Lonely, Drawn, Curious, jealous and Alive. God, she hated how alive she felt around him.
Her body recalled him, craving his presence. Her lips and heart both remembered him, and for the first time in years, her ever-present loneliness, which had been a heavy burden, momentarily stepped aside.
She placed a hand on her chest, attempting to push those feelings away.
"I shouldn't feel this way."
Yet she did... Intensely. Excruciatingly and Unavoidably.
The third day, Miranda was already expecting it to be the most challenging. The initial resolve to keep her distance from him was starting to wane, leaving behind a persistent, dull tension in her shoulders. She remembered yesterday how each time the cafe door swung open with the sound of the bells, she would feel both anxious and hopeful that it might be them, all while maintaining and continuing to act like he no longer existed, for how long was she supposed to live like this, she took a shower and prepared to head out.
When Miranda got to the cafe late, Sandra had already opened the shop, customers were settled in, and Raphael was standing by the window table with his hands in his pockets, gazing out at the street.
Miranda felt a sudden stillness. Today, he wasn't smiling as usual. He didn't look like he came looking for her as he wasn't waiting at the counter. He appeared to be a man quietly getting ready to say farewell.
She felt like the distance between them was widening but even so she walked past him, stiffly, pretending not to see him but as soon as she walked past him, her steps began to slow and slow further.
Until she finally stopped, She positioned herself behind the counter, her fingers gripping the edge tightly. She couldn't explain why her chest ached so sharply at the sight of him quietly accepting her distance.
Sandra noticed her hesitation. "You can take his order, if you want."
Miranda quickly shook her head. "No. It's okay."
Yet, she kept looking over at him.
Once. Twice. Six times. Then a dozen. At last, Raphael came to the counter.
Not because he anticipated anything, but because he was ready to pay and depart.
Miranda felt her breath hitch.
He set down his empty cup and gave a polite, neutral nod. "Thank you," he said quietly.
That was all. Nothing more.
And something inside her snapped. Not in anger, Not in fear but in longing. Real, desperate longing. She burst into the kitchen, unable to breathe.
Sandra followed quickly. "Madam, what's going on?"
Miranda shook her head, tears stinging unexpectedly.
"I don't know… I don't know what's happening to me…"
Sandra hesitated. "Do you like him?"
Miranda's chest tightened painfully.
"I'm… trying not to."
"But you do."
Miranda blinked rapidly.
"Yes," she whispered, voice cracking. "I do."
Sandra exhaled softly, the kind of breath someone releases when the truth finally lands.
"Then you should be careful, ma'am" she said gently.
Miranda's heart hammered. She knew Sandra was indirectly reminding her that she was a married woman. Then she heard the bell, the door opening. Raphael was leaving.
And suddenly she forgot Sandra's masked warning. She couldn't stand it, Couldn't stand the distance she had created between her and Raphael, Couldn't stand the idea of him thinking she didn't care, Couldn't stand watching him walk out of her life.
Without thinking, she rushed out of the kitchen.
"Raphael!"
He stopped walking, turning.
She froze halfway to him, her breath uneven, emotions tangled and heart in her throat.
His eyes softened instantly.
She swallowed hard. "I wasn't avoiding you because I don't want to see you," she whispered.
He took a small step toward her. "Why, then?"
Miranda's voice trembled. "Actually it's because I want to see you too much."
He smiled and said nothing but his entire posture changed, his chest rising slowly, shoulders loosening, and expression softening into something even warmer and impossibly tender.
Miranda's voice then broke the silence. "I kind of miss you."
Raphael closed the distance slowly, giving her time to retreat and stopped just one step away.
Close enough that his warmth reached her. Far enough that he wasn't touching her. "You know," he whispered. "I miss you too."
She drew a shuddering breath, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know the way forward."
"The way forward is easy. Just… don't run."
Her vision blurred.
"I'll try."
Raphael smiled gently, just a small curve of lips. "That's all I need."
And Miranda's world shifted again.
This time, she didn't run and just like that, day three of avoidance ended in Failure