Page 16

She hesitates, just for a second. I can practically see the wheels turning. But then she smiles.

And Jesus, it flips something in me.

“Sure,” she says. “Why not?”

We weave past tables to a quiet corner at the back. The air feels different here, thicker. Charged. Like the room knows what’s sitting between us.

She slips into the seat across from me, eyes flicking around like she’s still catching up with the moment. Like part of her’s already halfway out the door.

But when her gaze finds mine, something settles. Not entirely, but enough.

“So,” I say, keeping my voice light. Steady. “What’s your story, Ellie?”

She looks up, that cautious smile flickering at the corners of her mouth. “Busy. Mostly uni and shifts at the hospital. Mia’s got a load of school stuff going on, so there’s always something.”

She pauses just for a second, as something softer crosses her face. “Nothing very exciting.”

“Sounds like you’re juggling a lot.”

“Less juggling. More—barely hanging in there.”

“Still sounds pretty impressive from where I’m sitting.”

She glances down at her coffee, like it’s easier to focus on the steam than take the compliment. “What about you? Figured you’d be off in some new city by now.”

“Yeah, usually,” I say, raking a hand through my hair. “But we’ve got a break before the next leg of the tour. Thought we’d hang back a bit, find some quieter spots. Soak up the calm.”

“Right,” she says, glancing toward Brenda, who’s definitely pretending to mind her own business.

“You found the right place. I’ve been coming here since I was a teenager. Brenda’s local royalty.”

“She mentioned she’s been here a while,” I say with a smile. “And these croissants are something else.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says. “I’ve had one almost every morning since I started uni.”

“How’s it going?”

She huffs a soft laugh, eyes lowering to her cup. “It’s been a long road, honestly. It hasn’t been easy.”

“I bet. You did it though, Ellie.” I say, meaning it.

She glances up, a surprised smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah. It took time. And a few—okay a lot —of nervous breakdowns.”

I grin, but it fades into something softer as she looks at me again—really looks. There’s something open in her eyes now, something unguarded.

“I nearly didn’t try,” she says, her thumb brushing the rim of her cup. “I used to lie awake some nights convinced I wasn’t smart enough. That I’d missed the window, you know? Too old, too behind.”

I don’t speak. I just watch her. Hold her gaze and let her keep going.

She draws in a breath. “But that night—by the lake. Do you remember?”

“I remember everything, Ellie.” And I mean every word.

She flushes, pink creeping up her cheeks.

“If it wasn’t for you,” I say quietly, “I don’t think I ever would’ve gone for it.”

My heart twists, something tender blooming in my chest. I shake my head gently, voice low. “You were always gonna do it, Ells. Give yourself more credit.”

She looks down, a faint smile tugging at her lips, but I catch the way her eyes shine.

“You’re the one who showed up. You put the work in. And it sounds like you earned every damn croissant.”

“Brenda’s been a constant through most of it. Always made space for me here. Even when I showed up with Mia in tow, crying over textbooks and deadlines.”

I watch her just for a second, the way her face softens when she talks about it. About that version of herself, fighting to become something new.

“She kind of stepped in when I needed someone,” she adds, quieter now.

Something shifts in her face. An opening. A tiny crack in the armour. So, I tread lightly. “And your parents?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Just nods once, eyes on her t-shirt as she picks at the hem.

“Oh, they’re around in their own way. I’m still trying to tick their boxes.

” A pause. “Things were weird with them for a long time. Like somewhere along the way I stopped being the person they wanted me to be.”

She gives a small shake of her head. “They were embarrassed, I think, when I got pregnant. More worried about what the neighbours would say than… about me.”

I don’t speak. Just listen. Let her have the space.

“It’s better now, though.” She blurts, like she needs me to know she turned it around. “Not perfect. But I think they like where I’m at these days.”

That catches me. The way she’s trying to make it sound okay. Like she has to defend her own past just to take up space in the present.

I nod, slower this time. “They should’ve liked you back then, too.”

My voice comes out quiet, but sharper than I meant it. “You didn’t deserve to feel you were anything less than amazing.”

“It was what it was.” She shrugs, but it doesn’t land like peace.

“But what about you, anyway?” she asks then, steering the conversation away from herself with quiet precision. “How’s life been treating you?”

She tilts her head, waiting.

“The last few years have been… mad, honestly. Like, every day’s felt like a bit of a pinch-me moment. Bigger crowds, bigger venues—stuff we used to daydream about.”

Ellie smiles, warm and proud in a way that makes something settle low in my chest.

“You lot deserve it. You’ve worked your arses off.”

“Yeah, we have,” I admit, not bothering to play it down. “It’s all gone so fast, though. One minute we’re stuffing gear into the back of Dad’s car, and the next we’re touring the UK. It still doesn’t feel real half the time.”

She leans back slightly. “How’s the tour going?”

“It’s been good. Wild, mostly. We’re in the last stretch now—wraps up in September. After that, it’s just… waiting, I guess.”

“Waiting?”

I shrug. “To see if the label wants to sign us on for an album. They’re hinting, but nothing confirmed yet.”

She arches a brow. “That’s exciting.”

“Yeah. We’re hopeful. If it goes through, we’ll probably be back in the studio in the new year.”

Her smile softens. “You deserve it, Kieran. All of it.”

We let the silence stretch between us, and for once, it doesn’t feel heavy. Just honest. But I couldn’t help myself. There was still one thing I needed to know.

“Ellie…” I say, my voice low, almost a whisper. It pulls her attention back to me. “Why did you leave?”

I let the moment settle. I’m not trying to trap her in the past—I just need to understand.

“I think I just freaked out.” She looks at me like she doesn’t know whether to run, cry, or laugh. Maybe all three.

“I wish I could give you a more concrete reason. But… I had Mia,” she says, voice soft but steady. “And I didn’t know how to juggle everything.”

She pauses, eyes drifting somewhere past me. “My parents didn’t make it easy. Everything I did felt like it was under a microscope—like they were constantly waiting for me to fuck up.”

There’s a quiet beat before she speaks again, her voice lower now.

“I think that’s why I made a lot of the choices I did. I stopped trusting my own instincts.”

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, searching. “And then there was you.” Her voice turns gentler. A truth slipping through.

“That week… it meant more than I can explain. You were this beautiful moment of calm in the middle of everything. And God it felt like being seen for the first time in years.”

She glances up at me, then away.

“But that scared the shit out of me. Because the rest of my life didn’t feel like that.” She pauses. “You felt like something I wasn’t allowed to have. My life was already so messy. And you…” her voice wavers, “you didn’t deserve to get pulled into it.”

She swallows hard. “So I left. Not because I didn’t care. But because I did.”

And just like that, the missing piece I’ve carried around for years falls into place.

“Ellie.” I breathe.

I reach across the table, fingers brushing against hers softly. Like I’m afraid she’ll pull away.

She doesn’t.

“I spent so long thinking I did something wrong,” I say, voice rough at the edges. “Replaying every moment. Trying to figure out where I screwed up. I thought I said something. Or pushed too hard. Or maybe I just… wasn’t enough.”

Her eyes soften. And then she reaches back, hand curling into mine.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Kieran. Not one thing.

” Her voice is quiet, but there’s no doubt in it.

“It was all me. Just stuck in my head. You were the only thing that felt right that week. But by the time I realised how much that mattered, it was already too late.”

And that truth cuts deeper than rejection ever could.

Something settles between us then. Not closure exactly. But something . A thread. A beginning, almost.

I let the silence breathe. Then I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, placing it gently on the table. “I don’t know if this is out of order,” I say, nudging it toward her. “But, if you ever need anything, or just want to talk. You’ve got me. No pressure or expectations.”

She stares at the phone like it’s delicate. Like it might tip the balance. Then, slowly, with fingers steadier than I expected, she picks it up, types her number, and hands me her phone in return.

Our fingers brush again when I pass it back. A flicker of contact that says more than either of us has dared to say out loud.

She holds my gaze. “I never thought we’d end up here,” she says, voice soft. “Talking like this. After all this time.”

“Neither did I.” My voice comes out rough and honest. “But I’m glad we did.”

I save her contact and tuck my phone back into my pocket.

“I want to be in your life, Ellie,” I say, barely above a whisper. “Whatever way you’ll let me.”

She doesn’t answer straight away. Just looks at me. Really looks. Like she’s trying to decide if letting me in is safe this time.

And then she smiles.

Not wide. Not easy.

But it’s real.

And right now, that’s everything.

We stay there longer than we probably should and Brenda keeps the coffee coming without asking. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m performing. I’m just here. With her.

Eventually, she checks her phone and winces. “Shoot. I’ve gotta go. School pickup.”

“Right,” I say, trying not to sound disappointed. “Yeah, of course.”

She grabs her bag and gives me a quick smile. “Bye, Kieran.”

“Bye, Ellie.”

She waves at Brenda on her way out, and then she’s gone.

The café feels instantly quieter. I sink back into my chair and run a hand through my hair.

Then my phone buzzes.

Ells [14:38]

Thanks for the coffee, rockstar

I don’t even try to hide the grin that takes over my whole damn face.