Catherine woke to golden sunlight streaming across the floor, the storm from the night before now just a whisper in the past. Her room was warm, soft with the scent of lavender from the candle she'd forgotten to blow out.
She turned her head toward the small table beside her bed.
No rose.
No pancakes.
No hot chocolate with marshmallows.
Her chest tightened as her eyes welled.
"He's no longer here. I forgot."
Her voice was barely a whisper, more to herself than anything else. She wiped her cheeks before the tears could fall freely, pulling her phone from beneath the pillow.
One unread message.
Her breath caught.
*"I'll see you today at 6 PM. Will send you the location. I'll cover your taxi since I can't pick you up today.
Happy Valentine's, Cath. I love you."*
Her lips curved into a soft smile.
Maverick.
At least that meant something.
I hope it goes well tonight, she thought, her thumb hovering over the keyboard.
"See you tonight, Mav. I love you too."
She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, breathing in the stillness, then stood. The sky outside was clear, blue and promising. She stepped out onto the balcony with a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hands, the steam curling up like a prayer.
Looking up into the morning sky, she whispered,
"I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad."
The ache didn't vanish — it never did — but it softened. Just a little.
The hours passed gently. She moved through the day with quiet intention — cleaning, humming, texting Aina, checking the café schedule for tomorrow. And when the clock struck 4, she stood in front of her mirror.
A red dress hung waiting on her closet door — velvet-soft, classic, and simple. It dipped slightly at the shoulders, just enough to feel elegant but not too loud. She wore no necklace, only a pair of gold earrings her mother had once gifted her.
She let her hair fall naturally, framing her face like silk.
A touch of rose gloss.
A hint of blush.
Perfume — soft vanilla and orchid. The same scent from the night before.
Her reflection looked back at her with something she hadn't seen in a while: quiet courage.
You're still here, she reminded herself. You're still trying.
At 5:40 PM, she received a message.
"Here's the location. Can't wait to see you."
(Sent at 4:16 PM)
Catherine slipped on her heels, grabbed her small red clutch, and typed:
"I'm on my way there now. See you later, love. Can't wait to see you!"
She hit send. Smiled. Waited for the "typing..." bubble.
But nothing came.
No reply. No dots. No seen notification.
She stared at the screen for a moment longer before sighing softly and tucking the phone away.
It's okay, she told herself. He's probably just busy.
Again.
She stepped into the taxi, smoothing the hem of her dress as the city unfolded around her.
Valentine's Day.
A day full of memories, hopes… and a quiet, flickering question she couldn't quite silence.