The café was quieter than usual when Liam arrived, its usual bustle replaced by the soft hum of indie music and the hiss of the espresso machine. The rain from earlier that morning still lingered in the air, painting the windows in fog and reflections.
He checked his watch. 1:48 p.m.
Twelve minutes early.
Nervous? Maybe a little.
Or a lot.
Liam found their usual corner table and sat, fingers drumming a steady rhythm against the tabletop. He hadn't even ordered anything yet. His brain was too busy imagining every version of this conversation—from emotional confessions to awkward "you're like a brother to me" speeches.
The doorbell above the entrance jingled.
Cara walked in.
Hair slightly damp from the drizzle. White top. Light blue jeans. That small, familiar smile that made Liam's brain temporarily short-circuit.
She spotted him and waved.
Liam stood up a little too fast, nearly knocking over the chair behind him. Smooth.
"Hey," she said, settling across from him.
"Hey," he replied, voice casual. Too casual. He sounded like he was trying to sound casual.
They both paused.
"You didn't order yet?" she asked.
"Didn't know if you wanted to share something again."
Cara smiled. "Still thinking about that matcha cake?"
"Maybe."
They both ordered—coffee for him, tea and a slice of matcha cake for her—and sat quietly for a moment. The server left. The silence returned.
Then she said it.
"I broke up with Jared."
Liam blinked. "I know."
"You do?"
"Word spreads fast around here," he said. "And... Marcus might've yelled it at me during class."
Cara chuckled softly, then looked out the window.
"I thought I'd feel relieved," she said. "But it's complicated. Three years with someone—breaking it off doesn't just... erase everything."
"I get that."
"Do you?" she asked, gently but sincerely.
He hesitated. "Maybe not fully. But I understand what it means to hold on to something... quietly. Even when it hurts."
Cara's gaze flicked to him at that.
"You always seemed calm. Like you had everything together."
Liam scoffed. "I'm good at pretending."
There was another pause.
Then she said, "Jared wasn't bad to me, you know. He wasn't cruel or anything like that."
Liam nodded. "I never thought he was."
"But somewhere along the way," she continued, "I stopped feeling like... me. Around him, I mean."
That surprised him.
"You?"
"I don't know how to explain it. He had this image of me—and I kept trying to match it. I was careful with my words, careful with how much I laughed or talked too much. I stopped sharing certain things. Music I liked. People I talked to."
"Like who?"
She looked straight at him now. "Like you."
Liam froze.
"You and I... we always had something weirdly easy, didn't we?" she said, voice low. "Even when we didn't talk much, I felt comfortable near you."
Liam tried to find the right words, but his mind was a static mess of wait—what?
"I guess that's why I asked to meet," she went on. "Because I needed to be honest with someone I trust. And because... I need to ask you something."
His heart was somewhere near his throat.
"Okay," he said quietly.
She leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes not leaving his.
"Did you like me? Back then?"
Liam blinked.
"Back when?" he asked.
"First year. Second year. Before the breakup. Before all of this."
And there it was.
All the walls he had carefully built over the years, all the excuses and smiles and inside jokes—they all collapsed in a second under her question.
He could lie.
He could deflect.
But instead...
"I did," he said.
Her lips parted slightly. But she didn't speak.
"I liked you since our first year. You were dating Jared, so I kept it quiet. Even my friends didn't know. I turned someone down last year because I still liked you. And when we got paired up this semester... I thought I'd finally gotten over it. But I hadn't."
A long silence fell between them.
Cara looked down at her tea, fingers wrapped around the mug like she needed something to anchor her.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.
"Because you were happy. Or I thought you were. And I didn't want to be the guy who ruined that."
She nodded slowly, as if piecing something together in her head.
"I think part of me always wondered," she admitted. "Why I felt safe around you. Why your silence meant more than Jared's attention sometimes."
"I never meant for it to be awkward," Liam said. "I just didn't know how to stop feeling it."
The matcha cake sat untouched between them.
Cara finally looked at him again. "Do you still like me now?"
Liam's throat tightened. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I think... I never stopped. But I also don't want to be someone you fall for just because I'm there. I don't want to be the rebound."
Her eyes glistened, just a little. But she smiled.
"That's... exactly why I wanted to talk to you. Because I don't want you to be, either."
He exhaled slowly, a weight lifting off his chest.
They didn't hug. They didn't kiss. Nothing overly dramatic happened.
But when Cara reached out and nudged the cake toward him, half a smile on her face, Liam felt something shift.
A quiet opening.
Something beginning.
Maybe they weren't anything yet.
But maybe, just maybe... they could be.