The golden sunlight spilled across my face before I even opened my eyes, stirring me from sleep with a gentle nudge rather than a jolt. I blinked at the familiar ceiling above me—the same one I stared at as a teenager, dreaming of a future far from here. But today, I wasn’t dreaming.

I was wide awake. And I knew exactly where I needed to be. Not the company. Not the boardroom. Not with Dad discussing schedules or shaking hands with investors.

Her.

The first thing I did after a quick shower and having breakfast was get behind the wheel and drive straight here. To Whisk and Blooms—the café she built with her friends. I didn’t even check the time. My instinct just knew.

The warm aroma of roasted coffee beans and buttery croissants reached me before the door fully swung open. The place had just opened for the day, and there was a softness to the morning still lingering in the air—like the world hadn’t quite woken up yet.

I stepped inside slowly, letting the door shut behind me without a sound. No one noticed me at first—and honestly, I preferred it that way.

Cassie was charming a couple near the corner with her bubbly laughter, while Sasha, quick and graceful, moved through the space like she’d choreographed every step.

Myra stood at the counter, her posture composed, tapping at the register while keeping one ear open to the conversations around her. Everything ran like a well-oiled machine—messy in the most beautiful, human way.

And I knew all of this. Every detail. Because she told me.

Aria and I may have lived separate lives these past years, but our hearts never stopped reaching for each other. Between my workload and her café responsibilities, we couldn’t see each other in person—but not a week went by without a call.

Sometimes long, sometimes fleeting. Sometimes filled with laughter. Sometimes with comfortable silence.

And through those calls, I got to know this place. Not just the name. But the people, the heart, the messy kitchen experiments, the burned pastries, the accidental sugar overload, the new latte flavors… all of it. All of her.

Aria and Anna mostly ruled the kitchen. She told me how their creative energy flowed best when they were covered in flour, hair tied up, as they argued over which frosting matched which cake.

I smiled faintly, my gaze lingering on the glass display filled with pastries that looked almost too pretty to eat. When—“Alex?” Myra’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I looked up, meeting her eyes, and smiled. “Hey.”

She spoke out from behind the counter, a surprised grin spreading across her face. We had never met face to face before, but there was a warm familiarity between us—one that came from years of hearing each other's voices and seeing through video call frames.

Aria had introduced me to all of them during our late-night chats. Sometimes she’d be in the café’s backroom, talking with me while the others bustled in the background.

She’d casually drag someone into frame, and I’d wave awkwardly, half-laughing while they poked fun at how ‘Aria’s mysterious Alex’ looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. We didn’t know each other personally, but somehow, we knew each other well enough.

“Oh God, when did you come back?” Myra asked, her voice bubbling with genuine joy.

“Just yesterday.” I replied, my tone soft, my heart already skipping. I glanced sideways, spotting Cassie and Sasha a few feet away. They both paused, then lit up in recognition as I waved. Cassie salute playfully but they both smiled back at me.

Turning back to Myra, I stepped closer to the counter and said quietly, “Can you call Aria here?”

Her brows lifted slightly but she nodded immediately. “Of course I will.”

But before she could move, I reached out slightly and added, “Don’t tell her I’m here.”

She paused, her lips parting in curiosity.

“I want to surprise her,” I explained, the corner of my mouth curling into a sheepish grin. Just imagining her reaction was enough to make me nervous.

Would she cry? Laugh? Slap me for staying away this long?

Myra giggled and raised a brow. “Alright, Mr. Romantic,” she whispered teasingly before turning toward the kitchen door.

I took a step back and stood there waiting, every second stretching endlessly. My heart beat a little faster with each footstep I imagined behind that door. Every sound, every laugh from the kitchen, suddenly felt like a countdown.

Soon, she stepped into the main area of the café.

My heart stilled.

She hadn’t changed—not really. Her beauty wasn’t loud. It didn’t try. That soft pastel frock she wore seemed like it was made only for her—modest, light, a shade shy of spring morning—yet somehow, it outshone everything in this café, in this city, in this world.

When her eyes found mine, she froze for a moment. And then she moved. “Alex!” She exclaimed, her face lighting up as she dashed toward me, her smile growing wider with each step.

That smile. I had seen it through screens. Heard it in laughter. But here? Right now? It hit me with the force of every day I spent away from her. Without a second thought, she hopped forward and threw her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

I laughed softly, my arms instinctively locking around her. “Hey, Aria.” I murmured, my voice dipping low, chin brushing the top of her head.

Aria finally pulled back from the hug, her hands gripping mine, her grin wide enough to scatter every logical thought I had left in me. “You didn’t even tell me you were coming back! I would have planned something!”

“And miss the chance to surprise you? Not a chance.” I replied, laughing softly.

Without hesitating, Aria began dragging me toward an empty table. “Come on, sit with me. I want to know everything!” she pulled out a chair and practically pushed me into it before plopping into the seat across from me, her energy infectious.

And I?
I was already gone for her.

“When did you come back?” she asked, clasping her hands on the table and leaning in eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

She didn’t even realize what those eyes did to me. How dangerous it was for her to look at me like that—so open, so innocent, so unaware of the thoughts that twisted inside my head every night I spent away from her.

“Last night. Thought I’d surprise you today,” I answered, tone calm, composed.

Aria gasped dramatically, a hand flying to her chest. “Well, mission accomplished! You did surprise me, Alex. Big time!”

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head as I watched, the way she laughed, “I’m glad,” I said, voice rougher than before. “I wanted to see your reaction.”

She was the only thing I missed from home. Everything else? Noise. But her—she was the silence I craved, the chaos I needed.

“Did you make any friends there?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to relax my posture though my hands itched to reach for her again. “I mean… I did make friends, but it was mostly professional. Nothing close, you know?”

“Boring!” She teased, rolling her eyes, her voice light, teasing. Then that grin—mischievous and innocent at once—spread across her lips like sin wrapped in sugar. She leaned in closer, voice lowering, cartoonish and playful, “But did you miss me?”

My smirk deepened. She didn’t understand, she had no idea what she was asking.

I leaned forward, shadows dancing in my gaze, my voice darker now, more intimate—low enough only she could hear. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I missed you, Aria. Every day. Not even a doubt.”

I didn’t just miss her. I counted hours. I memorized her laugh through calls.

Aria’s grin widened as if she didn’t just pull a monster out of me with one innocent tease. She leaned back in her chair again, looking satisfied, “I missed you too, Alex. You have been gone way too long.”

Yeah, I had. And now that I was back… I wasn’t leaving her side again.

“Oh, wait!” she suddenly exclaimed, and just like that, she broke the moment. Her chair scraped harshly against the floor, dragging my attention with it.

I frowned, eyes narrowing, pulse twitching under my skin as I watched her shoot up like a spark of light.

“What? Where are you going?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, the control in it tight—but she didn’t notice. Of course she didn’t. She never sees the storm behind my calm.

“You’ll see!” she said over her shoulder, practically bouncing toward the kitchen.

I leaned back in my chair, slowly letting the breath leave my lungs. My fingers tapped lightly on the wooden table, rhythm steady. Calculated.

She still runs like that. Carefree. Untouched by the weight of the world. No walls. No fear. It’s like nothing could ever touch her. But I could. I will. One day, she’ll understand that no matter where she runs, the only place she’ll end up is with me.

She doesn’t know the things I’ve done. The people I’ve pushed away. The promises I’ve broken just to come back to this—her. And she still smiles at me like I’m the same man who left.

Sweet girl.

A few moments passed. And then she came back carrying a plate in her hands. Her steps quick. Joy practically spilling from her lips before she even spoke. She looked so proud of that little plate. So damn beautiful it made something in me snap tight.

“Here,” she said as she placed it down, grabbing a spoon and nudging the dessert toward me. “I made this today. I was thinking of adding it to the menu. You are the first to try it.”

My gaze flicked from the plate to her. She sat, propping her chin on her hands, looking at me with those wide, excited eyes.

She had no clue what she was doing to me.

I picked up the spoon, letting a soft smile cross my lips—charming, easy. The kind she’s used to. “It looks amazing,” I murmured, “And it smells even better.”

I took the bite slowly, never breaking eye contact. And as the taste hit my tongue, something shifted in me. The flavor was perfect. I chewed slowly, swallowing it down like it was a piece of her soul. “Aria… This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I swear.”

And I meant every word. Because what she gave me wasn’t just dessert. It was a piece of her.

Aria’s smile stretched wider, her cheeks glowing with pride, like the sun had picked her as its mirror, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her—even if I wanted to. “Really? You’re not just saying that?” Her voice was light. Innocent. Trusting.

Did she really think I’d lie to her? After everything? I wasn’t here to flatter her. I was here to drown in her. To take back what I’d been starving for.

“I’m serious! You’ve outdone yourself. This is incredible.” My tone was animated, but beneath it ran a current of raw truth.

Aria beamed, her grin stretching from ear to ear, “Well, I had to impress you, didn’t I?”

A chuckle slipped my throat. Impress me? I'm already a goner for her.

“Well, if you love it that much, you will have to come back more often.” Her voice pulled me out of the spiral. Like it always did. Soft. Sweet. A whisper from God, if I believed in one.

I smiled wider, feeling something darker curl beneath the surface, my eyes gleaming. “Oh, don’t worry. You will be seeing a lot more of me.” My voice dropped just a note too low.

And she just smiled.

We kept talking—laughing—and I let her pull me into the stories, the silly details, the tiny glimpses of life she’d lived while I was away. I added a few of my own, painting them lightly, keeping the darker parts buried.

She didn’t need to know about the nights I drowned myself in whiskey, the fights I picked just to feel something, the way I’d walk through crowds hoping to smell her perfume in the wind.

“Still as weird as ever.” She teased, her eyes playful as she poked fun at me.

She didn’t know I liked that she called me weird. That she remembered how I arranged my books, my things, my obsessions. She didn’t know she was one of them now.

No.
Not one of them.
The only one.

I smiled at her again, softer this time. But inside, I was sinking. Sinking into her, into this moment, into the way her presence lit up something in me I thought had died.

Because no matter where I went, no matter what I saw—this… Her. She always felt like home. And I would raze cities before I lost that again.