The city hummed like a living thing, its pulse carried by the hum of passing cars, the distant chatter of strangers, and the occasional clanging of construction. Tai sat at a rickety café table outside a small coffee shop, her hands wrapped around a paper cup that had long since gone cold. She hadn’t touched it—she’d barely even looked at it.
The chair across from her was empty, but her eyes kept darting toward the door of the coffee shop, waiting for Van to walk through it. Her stomach churned. She had no idea what to expect when Van arrived. Anger? Indifference? Forgiveness?
She deserved all of it.
The last time they’d seen each other had been months ago, not long after they’d finally come back from the wilderness. Tai had made the worst mistake of her life: she’d walked away. Not just from Van, but from everything they’d shared, from the person who had been her anchor through hell.
And now, she was asking for something she had no right to—another chance.
The bells on the coffee shop door jingled, pulling Tai from her thoughts. She looked up and saw her: Van, in a worn leather jacket and a t-shirt Tai vaguely recognized from the wilderness, her red hair brighter in the sunlight than Tai remembered.
Van stopped when she saw Tai, her posture stiffening for a moment before she took a deep breath and walked over.
“Hey,” Van said, sliding into the seat across from her.
Tai opened her mouth to respond, but the word stuck in her throat. She felt like she was staring at a ghost—not because Van had changed, but because she hadn’t. Van still carried that same fire in her eyes, the same sharpness in her features that Tai had fallen for, and it made Tai’s chest ache.
Van raised an eyebrow. “You gonna say something, or should I just guess what’s on your mind?”
Tai shook herself out of her daze, her fingers tightening around her cup. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”
Van shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “You asked. I figured I’d see what you wanted.”
There was an edge to her voice, but it wasn’t as sharp as Tai had feared. Still, it stung.
“I wanted to see you,” Tai said softly.
Van let out a short laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “After how long? A year? You disappear, and now you suddenly want to see me?”
Tai flinched. “I know. I screwed up.”
Van tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “Screwed up doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“I’m sorry,” Tai said quickly, her voice trembling. “For leaving, for not calling, for—”
“My sister said you called on her birthday,” Van interrupted, her tone casual but her eyes hard. “You were off by like ten days, but you get a few points for trying.”
Tai winced, her face flushing with shame. “I was… I didn’t know if you’d even want to hear from me. I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” Van snapped, leaning forward. “Do you have any idea what it felt like when you left? After everything we went through? I needed you, Tai. I needed you, and you weren’t there.”
The words hit Tai like a punch to the gut. She looked down at her coffee, unable to meet Van’s gaze. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” she said quietly. “I thought… maybe you’d be better off without me.”
Van scoffed. “Better off? You think I was better off trying to figure out how to live a normal life again without you? Do you have any idea how hard it was to even look at people, let alone talk to them?”
Tai finally looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I do. I know how hard it was, Van. And I’m so sorry I left you to face it alone. I was scared, okay? I was scared of everything—of what we went through, of how much I needed you, of how much it hurt to think about any of it.”
Van’s expression softened, the anger in her eyes giving way to something more vulnerable. “You think I wasn’t scared too?”
Tai shook her head. “I know you were. I know. And I should have been there for you. I should have stayed.”
Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. Tai’s heart pounded in her chest as she waited for Van to respond, for some kind of sign that she hadn’t ruined everything.
Finally, Van sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t forgive you,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But please don’t hold me to it.”
Tai’s breath caught in her throat. “Van…”
“I’m still mad at you,” Van continued, her eyes glistening. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being mad. But I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want us to be… this.” She gestured between them, her voice breaking.
“I don’t either,” Tai said, her voice trembling. “I want to fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Van let out a shaky laugh, brushing a tear from her cheek. “You can’t just fix this, Tai. It doesn’t work like that. But…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I miss you. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”
Tai’s chest tightened, a mix of relief and guilt washing over her. “I miss you too. Every day.”
Van reached across the table, her hand hesitating for a moment before brushing against Tai’s. “We’re a mess, you know that?”
Tai let out a soft laugh, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Yeah. But I’m okay with that. As long as we’re a mess together.”
Van smiled, the first genuine smile Tai had seen from her since before the crash. “You always were a sucker for clichés.”
Before Tai could respond, Van stood up, pulling her to her feet. They stood there for a moment, the noise of the city fading into the background as they looked at each other.
Then, slowly, Van leaned in, her lips brushing against Tai’s in a tentative kiss. It was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it deepened quickly, years of longing and heartbreak pouring into the connection.
When they finally pulled apart, Van rested her forehead against Tai’s, her breath warm against Tai’s lips.
“Don’t run again,” Van whispered.
“I won’t,” Tai promised, her voice steady. “Not this time.”
And for the first time in a long time, they both believed it. And they wouldn’t let go. Not this time.