Continued from : Beneath the Silence 4 : Quiet Moments and You (Click to read)
Ethan sat in his usual corner at the coffee shop, the glow of his laptop reflecting faintly on his face. The spreadsheets on the screen blurred together as he took a sip of coffee, his eyes unconsciously flicking to the door.
And then, she walked in.
Hannah.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second when she saw him, her hand tightening around the strap of her bag. She’d been away for a week, but it felt longer. Now, as she scanned the room, her eyes landed on him, and for a moment, the hum of the coffee shop faded into nothing.
Ethan straightened slightly in his seat, his heart beating faster than he cared to admit. He hadn’t expected the sudden rush of relief at seeing her. But what now? Should he wave? Say something? Or would it seem too eager? Too much?
Hannah made her way to the counter, ordering her usual. She stole a quick glance at Ethan, who was now staring at his screen, his jaw tight, as if trying to focus. The familiarity of him—the calm, quiet presence she’d been thinking about all week—made her both nervous and comforted.
With her coffee in hand, she walked past his table, her steps faltering. Should she stop? Say hello? What if he doesn’t want to talk? The thought made her stomach twist. She’d been burned before, her last relationship leaving scars she wasn’t sure had fully healed.
But before she could second-guess herself, Ethan looked up, their eyes locking for a heartbeat too long.
“Hannah,” he said, his voice steady but quiet, like the opening of a door.
“Hey,” she replied, her lips curving into a small smile. “You’re still here.”
Ethan chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Habit, I guess.”
She shifted on her feet, the warmth of his gaze making her chest tighten. “Mind if I sit?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, not because he didn’t want her to, but because he wasn’t sure how to navigate this. Still, he gestured to the chair across from him. “Of course.”
Hannah sat down, setting her cup on the table. They both looked at each other, unsure of where to start, the silence between them stretching but not uncomfortable.
“How was your trip?” Ethan asked, finally breaking the quiet.
“Busy,” Hannah said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Barely had a moment to breathe. But… I missed this place.”
Ethan nodded, his fingers lightly tapping the edge of his cup. “Yeah. It’s… different when someone’s not here.”
Hannah’s heart skipped at the subtle weight of his words. “I guess we’re both creatures of habit.”
“Seems that way.”
She laughed softly, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. What if this is too much? Too fast? She wasn’t sure she could risk it—risk feeling vulnerable again. “You don’t strike me as someone who talks much,” she said, her tone light but probing.
“I’m not,” Ethan admitted, his gaze steady on hers. “But… I think some conversations are worth having.”
Hannah felt her chest tighten, the walls she’d carefully built over the years trembling. “And what makes a conversation worth it?” she asked, her voice softer now.
Ethan held her gaze, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “When it’s with someone who makes the silence feel… less heavy.”
Her breath caught, the weight of his words settling between them. For a moment, she wanted to retreat, to guard herself, but something in his quiet sincerity anchored her.
“I’m not great at this,” she admitted. “Talking. Trusting.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly, his voice calm. “Neither am I. But maybe… we don’t have to rush it.”
She nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I think I’d like that.”
And so, they sat together, the silence between them soft and unspoken, a tentative step toward something neither could fully define but both quietly hoped for.
Ethan sat in his usual corner at the coffee shop, the glow of his laptop reflecting faintly on his face. The spreadsheets on the screen blurred together as he took a sip of coffee, his eyes unconsciously flicking to the door.
And then, she walked in.
Hannah.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second when she saw him, her hand tightening around the strap of her bag. She’d been away for a week, but it felt longer. Now, as she scanned the room, her eyes landed on him, and for a moment, the hum of the coffee shop faded into nothing.
Ethan straightened slightly in his seat, his heart beating faster than he cared to admit. He hadn’t expected the sudden rush of relief at seeing her. But what now? Should he wave? Say something? Or would it seem too eager? Too much?
Hannah made her way to the counter, ordering her usual. She stole a quick glance at Ethan, who was now staring at his screen, his jaw tight, as if trying to focus. The familiarity of him—the calm, quiet presence she’d been thinking about all week—made her both nervous and comforted.
With her coffee in hand, she walked past his table, her steps faltering. Should she stop? Say hello? What if he doesn’t want to talk? The thought made her stomach twist. She’d been burned before, her last relationship leaving scars she wasn’t sure had fully healed.
But before she could second-guess herself, Ethan looked up, their eyes locking for a heartbeat too long.
“Hannah,” he said, his voice steady but quiet, like the opening of a door.
“Hey,” she replied, her lips curving into a small smile. “You’re still here.”
Ethan chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Habit, I guess.”
She shifted on her feet, the warmth of his gaze making her chest tighten. “Mind if I sit?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, not because he didn’t want her to, but because he wasn’t sure how to navigate this. Still, he gestured to the chair across from him. “Of course.”
Hannah sat down, setting her cup on the table. They both looked at each other, unsure of where to start, the silence between them stretching but not uncomfortable.
“How was your trip?” Ethan asked, finally breaking the quiet.
“Busy,” Hannah said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Barely had a moment to breathe. But… I missed this place.”
Ethan nodded, his fingers lightly tapping the edge of his cup. “Yeah. It’s… different when someone’s not here.”
Hannah’s heart skipped at the subtle weight of his words. “I guess we’re both creatures of habit.”
“Seems that way.”
She laughed softly, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. What if this is too much? Too fast? She wasn’t sure she could risk it—risk feeling vulnerable again. “You don’t strike me as someone who talks much,” she said, her tone light but probing.
“I’m not,” Ethan admitted, his gaze steady on hers. “But… I think some conversations are worth having.”
Hannah felt her chest tighten, the walls she’d carefully built over the years trembling. “And what makes a conversation worth it?” she asked, her voice softer now.
Ethan held her gaze, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “When it’s with someone who makes the silence feel… less heavy.”
Her breath caught, the weight of his words settling between them. For a moment, she wanted to retreat, to guard herself, but something in his quiet sincerity anchored her.
“I’m not great at this,” she admitted. “Talking. Trusting.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly, his voice calm. “Neither am I. But maybe… we don’t have to rush it.”
She nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I think I’d like that.”
And so, they sat together, the silence between them soft and unspoken, a tentative step toward something neither could fully define but both quietly hoped for.
To be continued....
