Him: Day 120 - My heart skips a beat

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It was the middle of the afternoon. The coffee shop hardly gets too many customers at this time of the day. But there was a handful sitting by the wooden tables and couches, reading a book, doing a report, or working something on their computers like most casual days. However, my attention wasn't directed at the stranger sitting inside the coffee. My eyes peered outside across the street. There, standing with her hands lingering by the door handle, was the woman whose presence and existence remain the main gossip surrounding me.

After my messy interaction with her a few weeks ago at the state fair, I doubted myself if I made the right decision by leaving her. For days—no weeks—I considered the words I had said to her that night.

Was it all I had to say to her?

Looking at her standing there, my body started to move impulsively. I walked out of the coffee shop and stood across from her. It took a while, but she noticed me. I watched the slightest change of her expression, and then a look of longing crossed her face—or was it what I wanted to see from her? I'm not sure.

When we continued to stare at each other, I gathered up the courage and made the first move. I raised my hand and waved. Not the smoothest move I had in mind.

"Hey!" I called out.

I watched as she gave me a strained smile and waved back. "Hi!"

I threw yet another question, trying to make small talks. But I wasn't contented with little chats. I wanted us to discuss something more. I want to talk about us again. But looking and hearing her every reply to my questions, I wasn't sure she was up to the task. And surprisingly, she agreed to an offer I thought she'd refuse.

Was there still hope?

I waited and watched her cross the street, closing the distance between us. It felt like a dream for a second, but it wasn't. She was there in front of me. How long has it been?

As we entered, my employees were as astonished at her visit. I felt horrible having her being the center of attention. So, I intruded on their interrogation and gestured for her to sit towards the chair we usually sat on.

While I prepared her drink, Edith walked up to me.

"Do you know why she's here?"

I shrugged my shoulder and replied, "she might just in need of caffeine."

"Don't be sly, Collin. Did something happen between you two? Is that why she's here? Was Melody, right? Are you getting back...?"

"I'll stop you right there," I interjected and grabbed a cup sleeve and tissue. "I know you're worried about her and me, but this is our problem—our relationship. I would appreciate a bit of privacy for it." I stated firmly, feeling a bit cold for saying it to her.

But Edith took a step back, looking guilty and shy. "I'm sorry for prying, Collin. I'm not overstepping your boundaries. We're just worried about Emilia and you."

I nodded and gave her an apologetic smile. "I know."

With that, I left the counter and served her the drink myself. I placed her glass on the table, taking her out of a trance. I peered over the empty seat but decided against it, waiting for her invitation.

"Sit down, Collin." She gestured at the empty chair across the table.

I sat down and kept a cautious eye on her, watching every flinch and change of her expression. She took a nervous sip on her drink. When she sighed and put down the glass, I cued it as the time to talk.

I kept my voice low, knowing the eavesdropping ears nearby. "So, you're really going?"

"Yes. I am." There wasn't the slightest hesitation in her voice.

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