Nora stood near the edge of the gallery room, wine glass half-forgotten in her hand, eyes fixed on Miles across the crowd. He was still talking to the woman in the red coat, his posture easy, head tilted slightly as he listened. The notebook was now tucked into his back pocket; he gestured once with his free hand, something small and precise. She couldn\u2019t hear the words, but she recognized the cadence\u2014the same quiet rhythm she\u2019d imagined from the coffee shop window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her pulse hadn\u2019t settled. It wasn\u2019t racing, exactly; it was just\u2026 awake. Alert in a way her body hadn\u2019t been in months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is ridiculous, she thought. You saw him twice. Once with a note. Once not at all. And now you\u2019re standing here like some character in a movie who\u2019s about to have an epiphany over bad abstract art.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She took a sip of wine. It tasted like nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Option one: walk over. Say hello. Mention the coffee. See what happens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The thought landed like a stone in still water. Immediate ripples of resistance. What would she even say? \u201cI liked your haiku\u201d? \u201cThanks for the free coffee I didn\u2019t ask for\u201d? She pictured the awkward pause, the polite smile, the way conversations like that usually ended\u2014with both people quietly relieved when it was over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Option two: don\u2019t. Leave now. Pretend you never saw him. Go home, eat leftover pasta, go to bed. Tomorrow the coffee shop will be the coffee shop again, and this will fade like every other small interruption.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That felt safer. Familiar. The path she\u2019d walked for years: notice something, feel a flicker, let it pass. No risk, no mess, no disappointment beyond the mild one she\u2019d already felt yesterday.
But the flicker wasn\u2019t fading tonight. It was holding steady, stubborn, like the low hum of the jazz track playing overhead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire appeared at her elbow, eyebrows raised. \u201cYou\u2019ve been staring at that painting for like three minutes. Either you hate it or you love it. Which is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nora blinked, pulled her gaze back to the canvas in front of her\u2014a swirl of deep blue and charcoal. \u201cNeither. Just thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire studied her face for a beat too long. \u201cYou\u2019re being weird.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are. You\u2019ve got that look\u2014like you\u2019re mentally drafting an email you\u2019ll never send.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nora exhaled through her nose. \u201cI\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire didn\u2019t buy it. She glanced across the room, then back at Nora. \u201cIs it the guy by the wall? Navy sweater? Because you\u2019ve barely blinked since you spotted him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Heat crept up Nora\u2019s neck. \u201cIt\u2019s nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s something,\u201d Claire said, softer now. \u201cYou\u2019ve been off since the coffee shop thing yesterday. And now you\u2019re standing here like you\u2019re deciding whether to jump off a cliff or walk away from it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nora finally turned to face her. \u201cIt\u2019s just\u2026 I don\u2019t do this. I don\u2019t chase small curiosities. I let them go. That\u2019s how it works.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire tilted her head. \u201cAnd how\u2019s that been working out?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The question landed sharper than intended. Nora felt the familiar catalog rise unbidden: Ben laughing with someone new. Ethan planning a wedding. Daniel with his fianc\u00e9e. All of them moving forward after her, while she stayed in the same neat, quiet lane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMaybe it\u2019s working fine,\u201d she said, but the words sounded thinner than she meant them to.
Claire gave a small shrug. \u201cOr maybe it\u2019s time to try not letting it go. Just once. See what happens when you don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nora looked back across the room. Miles had shifted; the woman in red was gone now. He stood alone for a moment, scanning the crowd\u2014not searching, just observing. His eyes passed over her section of the room without stopping.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She felt the decision narrow to a single point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Walk over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Or walk out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire touched her arm lightly. \u201cI\u2019m going to grab another glass of wine. You do whatever you\u2019re going to do. I\u2019ll be back in ten.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She slipped away into the crowd, leaving Nora standing there with the half-empty glass and the unfinished thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Miles turned slightly, as if sensing the shift in attention. His gaze swept the room again\u2014slower this time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And landed on her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To be continued tomorrow\u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Nora stood near the edge of the gallery room, wine glass half-forgotten in her hand, eyes fixed on Miles across the crowd. He was still talking to the woman in the red coat, his posture easy, head tilted slightly as he listened. The notebook was now tucked into his back pocket; he gestured once with […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-28","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-coffee-shop-notes"],"yoast_head":"\n