(Claire's POV)
The truth is, I came back with a plan. A vague, hazy, "figure-it-out-as-I-go" kind of plan, but a plan nonetheless. It did not involve running into Ethan Carter within the first 48 hours. My plan was to settle in, find a job, maybe repaint the apartment to get rid of the lingering smell of old curry, and definitely avoid any reminders of the past. Ethan was a giant, neon sign pointing directly at the "Past" exit on the highway of my life.
I was heading to a small art supply store downtown. Art had always been my escape, my way of processing the world. I needed to replenish my supplies, to lose myself in colors and textures and the familiar comfort of creation. Lost in thought, I rounded a corner, and then—bam!—I collided with a solid wall. A wall that smelled faintly of expensive cologne and contained a voice that sent shivers down my spine.
"Watch where you're going," the wall grumbled. It was a very familiar grumble.
I stumbled back, my scattered pencils and brushes painting a rainbow across the sidewalk. "I'm so sorry," I muttered, bending down to gather them.
"Claire?"
That voice. Deep, a little rough around the edges, but undeniably Ethan. I froze, my hand hovering over a stray tube of crimson paint. I slowly straightened up, my heart doing a weird tap dance in my chest.
He looked...different. The boy I remembered was gone, replaced by a man with sharp angles, intense eyes, and an aura of power that radiated off him in waves. He was devastatingly handsome, and that fact annoyed me immensely. I'd spent years trying to erase him from my memory, and here he was, looking like a Greek god sculpted by a particularly talented (and cruel) artist.
"Ethan," I managed, my voice a little breathless. "Wow. You...you look good."
Smooth, Claire. Real smooth.
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in those intense eyes. "You haven't changed a bit, Claire. Still as clumsy as ever."
A small smile tugged at my lips. He remembered. Of course, he remembered. We'd spent our entire childhood tripping over each other, literally and figuratively.
"Funny," I retorted, gathering the last of my supplies. "I seem to recall you being the one who pushed me into the creek that one time."
"That was a strategic maneuver," he said, his lips twitching. "You had my favorite comic book."
We fell into an easy banter, the years melting away as if they'd never existed. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. I'd built walls around myself, around my heart, and Ethan had always had a way of scaling those walls with infuriating ease.
"So," he said, his voice a little softer now, "what brings you back to town? I thought you were living the artist's life in...where was it? Chicago?"
"I was," I said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into my voice. "But things change. I needed a change of scenery."
"Things change," he echoed, his gaze intense. "That's certainly true."
There was an undercurrent to his words, a question he wasn't asking aloud. I knew what he wanted to know. He wanted to know why I left, why I disappeared without a word, why I broke the unspoken promise we'd made as children to always be there for each other.
But I wasn't ready to answer those questions. Not yet.
"Well," I said, forcing a bright smile, "it was nice running into you, Ethan. I should probably get going. I have a date with a blank canvas and a tube of cadmium yellow."
"Right," he said, his voice a little reluctant. "But maybe...maybe we could grab coffee sometime? Catch up?"
My carefully constructed defenses wavered. Coffee with Ethan. It was a dangerous proposition, a Pandora's Box of memories and emotions I wasn't sure I was ready to open.
"I...I don't know," I stammered. "I'm pretty busy."
"Busy?" he raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "Too busy for an old friend?"
Old friend. Was that all we were now?
"Okay, fine," I conceded, a small smile playing on my lips. "Coffee. But just coffee. No reminiscing about the good old days."
"Deal," he said, his eyes sparkling. "How about tomorrow? I know a great place downtown."
And just like that, my carefully laid plans went up in smoke. I'd come back to escape the past, and the past had just collided with me on a busy sidewalk.
(Ethan's POV)
Liam was right. Claire was back, and she was even more captivating than I remembered. She was still Claire, with her quick wit and fiery spirit, but there was something different about her, a guardedness in her eyes, a sadness that tugged at something deep inside me.
Seeing her again was like a punch to the gut. It stirred up emotions I'd buried long ago, feelings of longing, of regret, of a connection that had been severed too abruptly.
I'd tried to convince myself that I was over her, that I'd moved on, but one look at her, one shared smile, and all those carefully constructed lies crumbled.
When I asked her about coffee, I held my breath, unsure of what her answer would be. I knew she was hesitant, that she was still carrying the weight of the past, just like I was.
When she finally agreed, a wave of relief washed over me. It was a small victory, but it was a start. A chance to reconnect, to understand why she left, to maybe, just maybe, salvage something from the wreckage of our shared history.
I knew it wouldn't be easy. Claire was a force of nature, independent and strong-willed, and she wouldn't let me back into her life without a fight. But I was willing to fight. I was willing to do whatever it took to get her back, to reclaim the connection we'd once shared.
Liam, of course, was ecstatic. He'd always been a hopeless romantic, convinced that Claire and I were destined to be together.
"I told you!" he exclaimed when I told him about our coffee date. "I knew you two would find your way back to each other. It's written in the stars, man!"
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Liam," I cautioned. "It's just coffee. We're just catching up."
"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "Just catching up over a shared history and a bucketload of unresolved sexual tension. Sounds perfectly platonic to me."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny the truth in his words. There was something undeniable between Claire and me, a spark that had never truly died, a pull that was as strong as ever.
The next 24 hours stretched out before me, a torturous countdown to our coffee date. I found myself thinking about her constantly, replaying our conversation in my head, wondering what she was thinking, what she was feeling.
I was Ethan Carter, the man who controlled his own destiny, the man who didn't let emotions cloud his judgment. But Claire Reynolds had always been my weakness, my kryptonite, and I had a feeling she always would be.
(Claire's POV)
The rest of the day was a blur. I went to the art supply store, bought a ridiculous amount of paint and brushes, and then spent the afternoon wandering aimlessly through the city, trying to process my encounter with Ethan.
Every street corner seemed to hold a memory, every familiar landmark a reminder of our shared past. I couldn't escape him, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to.
That night, I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror, wondering what to wear for our coffee date. It was just coffee, I reminded myself. Casual. Friendly. But my heart had other ideas.
I ended up choosing a simple dress, something that felt both comfortable and...well, maybe a little bit cute. I told myself it was because I wanted to feel good, not because I wanted to impress Ethan. But deep down, I knew the truth.
I was nervous. Terrified, actually. Seeing Ethan again had stirred up so many emotions, so many memories, so many unfulfilled dreams. I was afraid of getting hurt again, afraid of opening myself up to the possibility of love, afraid of facing the truth about why I left.
But I was also excited. Excited to see him again, excited to reconnect, excited to see if the spark between us was still there.
As I got ready, I thought about Liam. He'd always been the glue that held our little trio together, the optimist who saw the best in everyone. I wondered if he knew I was back in town, if he'd been the one to tell Ethan.
Liam had always been Ethan's opposite, carefree and charming, with a smile that could melt glaciers. He was also fiercely loyal to Ethan, and I knew he'd do anything to protect his friend.
I hoped he'd approve of my coffee date with Ethan. I hoped he'd see that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for us to find our way back to each other.
But as I stepped out of my apartment, ready to face the past, I knew that the future was uncertain. All I could do was take it one step at a time, one coffee date at a time, and hope that fate was on my side.