The bell above the door chimed softly as you stepped into the new coffee shop, warmth immediately wrapping around you like a hug. The place smelled like fresh espresso and vanilla, soft indie music playing in the background. It was exactly how you imagined it—quiet, cozy, safe. You’d been talking about coming here all week, and somehow, convincing Derek Hale to come along had felt like a small victory in itself.

He stood just behind you, broad and steady, his presence grounding in a way nothing else ever had. Derek wasn’t big on crowded places, but for you, he’d made the exception. His hand rested briefly at your lower back as he guided you forward, subtle, protective. Yours.

“Smells good,” he muttered, voice low, eyes scanning the room out of habit.

You smiled a little, nerves and excitement twisting together. “Told you it would.”

For a moment, everything felt right. You stepped up to the counter, eyes flicking over the menu, already picturing the two of you sitting by the window, maybe talking—well, you talking, him listening in that quiet way he did. It was simple. It was yours.

And then—

“Oh my god, Derek?”

The voice cut through the air like it didn’t belong there.

You didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.

Emily.

She slipped into the space beside you like she’d always been meant to be there, all bright smiles and too-loud laughter. Her hand brushed his arm like it was nothing, like she had the right.

“I didn’t know you came to places like this,” she said, tilting her head, her voice sweet in a way that didn’t feel real. “Guess I’ll have to start coming more often.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the counter.

Derek didn’t respond right away. His jaw ticked, eyes narrowing just a fraction as he looked down at her. “I don’t,” he said bluntly.

It should’ve been enough. It should’ve made you feel better.

But it didn’t.

Because she just laughed, like his disinterest was a joke she was in on. “Well, maybe you should. I could show you the good spots.”

You swallowed, your excitement from moments ago quietly unraveling. The shop didn’t feel as warm anymore. The music felt louder. Your chest felt tight in a way you hated—familiar, creeping, heavy.

Second choice.

It echoed in the back of your mind, louder than anything Emily was saying.

You’d felt it your whole life. Like no matter how much you cared, how much you tried, there was always someone brighter, louder, easier to love. Someone people would pick over you without thinking twice.

Except Derek never had.

Until now, standing there, with her leaning into his space like she belonged there more than you did—

You stepped back slightly, not enough for anyone to notice, but enough to put a sliver of distance between you and him. Your gaze dropped, focusing on nothing in particular.

You weren’t jealous.

You told yourself that.

You were just… waiting.

Waiting for the moment he’d look at her and realize.

Realize she was easier. Prettier. Louder. Everything you weren’t.

“Hey.”

His voice was quieter this time. Closer.

You blinked, startled, looking up to find Derek already watching you—not her. His brows were drawn together, something unreadable but intense in his expression.

“You okay?” he asked.

Emily was still there. Still talking. Still trying.

But he wasn’t looking at her.

He was looking at you.

And somehow, that made your chest ache even more.