Whispers of Her Return
It started as nothing—a passing comment, a hint of doubt in someone's eyes. But rumors have a way of spreading, digging their way into the cracks of truth.
The city moves on quickly, forgetting people like me. But not him.
From my seat in the café's corner, I watched Jovi. His fingers gripped his glass too tightly, his knuckles white. His eyes kept flicking toward the entrance as if expecting me to walk in. Maybe he wanted me to. Maybe he was afraid I actually would.
Jovi was never good at hiding his feelings. The tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened—it was all too familiar. Yet, he laughed, the sound forced. His companion, a sharp-eyed woman, nodded along, unaware of the storm inside him.
I could have walked away. Let them think I was just a ghost, a memory from a life long gone. But I had never been good at staying invisible.
So, I stayed.
I slid into a booth a few feet away, close enough to listen, far enough to stay unnoticed. The space between us felt charged, filled with everything we had left unsaid.
Then I heard it.
"Someone said they saw her."
The words landed like a stone in a quiet pond. Jovi's body went still, his fingers tightening around his glass.
"Bullshit," he muttered. His voice was calm, but there was something beneath it—a crack in his control. "Celeste is gone. She's not coming back."
It wasn't anger. It wasn't a relief. It was fear.
The woman across from him, this sharp-eyed stranger, tilted her head. "Maybe. But rumors don't start from nowhere. What if she never left?"
A tight feeling twisted in my chest. The urge to reveal myself was strong—to walk over and tear down whatever wall he had built in my absence. But no. Not yet.
I needed to see who he had become.
The Jovi left behind had been raw, broken—a storm waiting to explode. And I had been the spark that lit the fire.
I watched as he swallowed hard, forcing down whatever he really wanted to say. "If she was here, I'd know."
Would you?
Doubt curled in my stomach. He hadn't truly known me before. Not when it mattered. Maybe I had never let him.
The woman—Mara, I thought I heard someone call her—leaned in, lowering her voice. But I still caught her words.
"If she is back… what would you do?"
A simple question. A dangerous one.
Jovi hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough.
"The same thing I should have done before," he said. "I'd handle it."
Handle it. Like I was a problem. An inconvenience to be dealt with.
My pulse pounded a reminder of the mistake I had made in caring for someone who could speak about me like I was just a loose end to tie up. And yet…
His hand trembled slightly when he reached for his drink.
I could leave. Walk out, disappear again. It would be easier.
But I never took the easy way out.
So, I stood.
My steps were slow and deliberate. The sound of my heels clicking on the tile made his head snap up. Our eyes met.
For a moment, time-stretched. His body tensed, and his breath caught.
He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Hello, Jovi."
His name left my lips like a test. A challenge. A question he had no answer for.
For a long second, neither of us moved. The café noise faded, the world narrowing to just us and the weight of everything we had left unfinished.
Then, with a sharp scrape, his chair slid back as he stood. His gaze burned into mine.
"Celeste."
He said my name like it was both a curse and a prayer. Like he didn't know whether to pull me close or push me away.
"Surprised?" I asked, tilting my head. I watched emotions flicker across his face—anger, confusion… something deeper.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I disagree."
His jaw clenched. "Why?"
There were so many ways to answer. The truth. A lie. The thing I didn't want to admit.
I settled for something in between.
"Because unfinished business doesn't just disappear."
His eyes darkened. "Is that what we are? Business?"
I smiled—a sharp, knowing thing. "Aren't we?"
Something cracked then. The tight control he had been holding onto slipped.
He stepped closer. His presence surrounded me, a force I had once known too well. For a second, I let myself drown in it.
"You left," he said, his voice rough. "You don't get to walk in like none of it happened."
I met his gaze. Steady. Unflinching.
"And yet," I said softly, "here I am."
A war raged behind his eyes. I could see the words forming before he spoke, and I knew—this was the moment.
Then, Mara's voice cut through the tension.
"Well," she murmured, amusement in her tone. "This is interesting."
Jovi exhaled sharply like he had forgotten she was even there.
I turned to her, studying her. "You're close to him."
A smirk curved her lips. "I know him."
"Do you?"
My words held a challenge, one she caught immediately. A flicker of something crossed her face—understanding, maybe. Or recognition that she had walked into something much bigger than herself.
Jovi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Celeste."
I smiled again, slow and deliberate. "Jovi."
A long silence. Then, the one question I wasn't expecting.
"What do you want?"
The only question that mattered.
For the first time in a long time, I had no easy answer.
So, I let my smile linger, sharp as a knife.
"I guess we'll find out."
Then I turned and walked away, knowing full well this wasn't over.
Not even close.