Part Two

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The cafe hums with life—quiet, but alive. The clink of coffee cups, the soft murmur of conversations—a far cry from the chaos swirling in my mind. I sit at a corner table, staring into the steam rising from my latte like it's the answer to everything. It's not. But it's warm. And I need warm.

Then the door swings open with the dramatic force of a soap opera entrance, and my stomach lurches. Chad. Of course. It's him.

My pulse betrays me, quickening despite everything. It's been a week since I walked in on him with someone else—saw the wide-eyed surprise on his face, heard the other guy mumbling some weird apology. The whole scene? A wrecking ball to the fragile image of our "relationship."

I glance up, and Chad spots me. There's that moment—he hesitates, breathes deep, and then takes the slow, careful approach like he's walking through a minefield. "Noah, we need to talk," he says, like that's going to change everything.

I put my cup down with a little more force than necessary. "Need to talk? Really?" My voice cracks slightly, but I don't care. "About what? How you couldn't keep your pants on?"

He flinches, and I take a tiny bit of satisfaction in it. But he holds his ground. "Look, I know it was wrong. But can we just—"

"Just what?" I cut him off, not bothering to mask the anger rising in my chest like bile. "Can we just pretend like you didn't betray me? Because that's not something you get to erase with a couple of sorrys, Chad."

Chad rakes a hand through his hair, looking like he's trying to pull out all the right words from his brain. Spoiler: he doesn't. "I'm sorry. I messed up. I was—"

"Messed up?" I nearly shout, and the patrons around me shrink back, glancing between us like they're watching a car crash in slow motion. "Is that all you have? I walked in and saw you with someone else, Chad. This wasn't a 'whoopsie-daisy' moment. It was a betrayal."

Chad lowers his voice, trying to make this feel like a secret between us. The only thing I want to keep secret is how much I still want to punch him. "I know. I should've been honest. I didn't mean to hurt you, but we weren't working."

"Right," I snap. "And what? Now it all makes sense? 'We weren't working,' so you thought you'd just play house with someone else?" My heart beats in my throat, and a thick knot of frustration sits like lead in my stomach. "I'm not a fool, Chad."

His eyes are pleading now, like I'm the one holding all the cards. "Can we at least have a civil conversation? I want to explain—"

"I don't want explanations," I grind out, barely holding onto my calm. I've practiced this speech in my head a thousand times, but it's never been easy. "I want you to understand that what you did wasn't just a mistake. It was a breach of trust. And trust, Chad? Trust is like the best pasta sauce—it takes time to make, and once it burns, you can't fix it."

His face falls as he swallows the truth, but he's not giving up. "I just... I wanted to apologize. I never wanted to hurt you."

I feel a mix of sadness and finality creeping in, drowning out the anger. "You can't just apologize away what you did," I say softly, but with steel. "It's not about how sorry you feel. It's about what you did."

Chad seems to shrink before me, his shoulders sagging. "I understand. I messed up. I just... I really hope you find what you need. You deserve that."

I stare at him, wondering if the guy in front of me is actually the same one I'd fallen for. He doesn't feel like it. "What I need," I murmur, my voice shaking a little, "is to get the hell away from here and forget that we were ever a thing."

He pauses by the door, a momentary flicker of hope in his eyes. "Noah, wait. Please, just hear me out."

I turn to face him, exasperated. "What more is there to say, Chad? Are you going to throw me a PowerPoint presentation on how you 'messed up'?"

He takes a hesitant step closer, almost as if he doesn't want to go down without trying. "I know I messed up, but I'm asking for another chance. I realize I made a terrible mistake. I just... I'll do whatever it takes to make it right."

I cross my arms, eyeing him like a scientist studying a very faulty experiment. "Another chance?" I scoff. "You think a 'second chance' fixes everything? It's not just about what you did—it's about the fact that you flat-out lied to me. How the hell am I supposed to trust you again?"

His voice cracks, and I can see the struggle in his eyes. "I get it. I do. But I've been a mess since you walked out. I'm not asking you to forgive me right away, but I need you to know that I'm sorry."

I inhale sharply, feeling sympathy war with the rest of me. "Chad, it's not just about feeling sorry. It's about actions. And right now? Your actions tell me I can't trust you as far as I can throw you."

His hand reaches out, and I fight the urge to knock it away. "Please, Noah. Just give me a chance to prove I can change. I can't lose you."

I look at his hand—his begging hand—and then at his face. A year ago, I would've caved. Today? Not so much. "It's not about losing me, Chad. It's about whether or not you've really changed. But right now? You're still the same guy who lied to me. And that's not something I can forget."

His hand falls to his side, and I swear I can feel the weight of his disappointment in the air between us. "I understand," he mutters. "I'm sorry. I just hope... I hope you can find peace."

I nod, but it feels hollow. "I will. I just wish it didn't have to be like this."

As he walks away, my heart feels heavy with the weight of the last year, but there's also a strange lightness at the thought of finally walking away. When the door swings shut behind him, I feel the pressure in my chest ease. Finally. It's over.

I glance at the clock—twenty minutes have passed since Chad walked in, but it feels like a lifetime. I sit back down, taking a sip of my now-cold latte. The bitterness hits me, and I realize it's not just the coffee. I'm ready to move on—but damn, it's going to be harder than I thought.

I look around the cafe—normal, uneventful. Just a couple by the window, laughing, the kind of couple I used to think Chad and I could be. I try not to stare, but it's hard to ignore the happiness that feels so far out of reach right now.

I glance at my phone, thinking about calling Jake. Maybe he can help take my mind off this. He's the one person who gets it. But even the thought of Jake brings a stab of guilt. I've been so wrapped up in my own mess, I've barely had time to check in with him.

I grab my stuff, my shoulders heavy. This conversation is over, but the aftermath isn't. I head to the door, catching my reflection in the cafe's glass. My eyes are puffy, my face pale. Not exactly my best look.

With a deep breath, I push through the door, letting the cool air hit my face. I've got a plan. It's simple: start with Jake. Then... figure it out from there.

This is the fresh start I need. It won't be easy. It'll hurt. But I've got one foot in front of the other.

And I'm not looking back.

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