She woke up to an empty bed again.
The faint smell of his cologne still lingered in the air, but he was gone.
No note.
No message.
She sat up slowly, pressing her hand against her forehead.
For a moment, she stayed like that.
Quiet.
Still.
Then she got up.
The routine didn't change.
It never did.
By the time she arrived at the café, the morning rush had already started.
Voices. Orders. Movement.
It was easier to breathe here.
"Good morning," her coworker said.
"Morning."
"Your regular's not here yet."
She paused slightly.
"…I didn't ask."
Her coworker smiled. "You didn't have to."
She didn't respond.
Just tied her apron and got to work.
Hours passed.
Steady. Uneventful.
Until the door opened.
The small bell above it rang softly.
She didn't look up immediately.
"…Welcome—"
Her voice stopped.
It wasn't him.
It was a woman.
Beautiful. Well-dressed. Confident.
Everything she wasn't.
The woman's eyes scanned the café briefly…
Then landed on her.
A small smile curved her lips.
"…You must be her."
Her brows furrowed slightly.
"…I'm sorry?"
The woman stepped closer.
Her heels clicked softly against the floor.
"I've heard about you."
A pause.
Something felt wrong.
"…Do you need to order something?" she asked, keeping her voice calm.
The woman let out a soft laugh.
"Straight to the point. I like that."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the tray.
"I'll take a coffee," the woman said. "Anything is fine."
She nodded and turned away.
But she could feel it—
The woman's gaze.
Still on her.
Uncomfortable.
When she returned with the cup, the woman didn't touch it.
Instead, she spoke.
"He didn't tell you, did he?"
Her hand paused mid-air.
"…Tell me what?"
The woman tilted her head slightly.
Almost curious.
"That he's been seeing someone else."
Silence.
The café noise seemed to fade.
"…I think you're mistaken," she said quietly.
"Am I?"
The woman reached into her bag.
Pulled out her phone.
And turned the screen toward her.
A photo.
Him.
Standing close to the same woman.
Smiling.
A smile she hadn't seen in a long time.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
Just for a second.
Then she placed the cup down.
Carefully.
"…I see."
Her voice didn't break.
The woman studied her reaction.
Waiting.
"…That's all?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her tone.
She met her eyes.
"…What else should I say?"
The woman blinked.
Then laughed softly.
"You're calmer than I expected."
"…This is a café," she replied. "Please don't cause a scene."
For a moment—
Neither of them spoke.
Then the woman stood up.
"I'll be seeing him tonight," she said lightly. "You should ask him yourself."
She turned and walked out.
The bell rang again.
And just like that—
She was gone.
The café returned to normal.
Voices. Movement. Noise.
But none of it reached her.
"…Hey," her coworker called softly. "Are you okay?"
She blinked.
"…Yes."
A lie.
But an easy one.
That night—
She didn't go straight home.
Instead, she stood across the street.
Looking up at the apartment window.
The lights were on.
He was there.
And through the thin curtains—
She saw it.
A shadow.
Not one.
Two.
Her breath caught.
For a moment—
Everything went completely still.
Then slowly…
She looked away.
Turned.
And walked.
She didn't go inside.
Didn't knock.
Didn't ask.
Because somehow…
She already knew.
Across the street—
In the shadows—
He stood there.
Watching her.
Watching the moment she chose to leave.
"…So this is where it breaks," he murmured.
His gaze followed her retreating figure.
Dark.
Quiet.
Unmoving.
And for the first time—
There was something different in his eyes.
Not patience.
But decision.